


Common Scents

by geenajay



Series: The Same But Different [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geenajay/pseuds/geenajay
Summary: Continuation of The Same But Different - as I want it to be written!So it continues from my Original Ending - if you hated that then please don't bother. (But if you didn't read it, then you will be sooo confused by this! :0)
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: The Same But Different [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/714735
Comments: 20
Kudos: 17





	1. To Continue From the Original Ending - Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I’m finally ready to start writing the conclusion to this story.  
> I’ve read and re-read through all the comments and feel assured that most people would like my original idea continued, although I am aware that I didn’t explain Dean’s transformation very well – I’ve tried to make his state of mind a bit clearer and hope it comes across as more believable.  
> To those who DIDN’T like this ending to the story, I apologise. But I’m sure that you’re all capable of simply stopping reading a story that you don’t like, in the same way that you can simply close a book or turn a television off, so please feel to do so – I won’t be insulted if you don’t bother to continue the tale.  
> This doesn’t follow the series at all with the exception of the boys now living in the Bunker (for which I will always mourn the preceding loss of Bobby in the season). But I have always loved Jody as well, and I have always felt that Dean and Claire should become good friends.  
> I will try and get this done as soon as I can, although I know from experience that it takes me longer than I expect to get my chapters the way I want them to read.  
> I hope those who do bear with me enjoy.  
> And, as always, I do welcome comments… seriously, I do. (Seriously! :0)  
> God bless you all and keep you safe.

Sam drew the Impala up into yet another motel parking lot in yet another small town, ran his hands through his long hair and increasingly longer and scruffier beard, and sighed.

Seventeen weeks.

Well… nearly seventeen weeks. Sixteen weeks, five days, seventeen hours and fifty-seven minutes… not that Sam had been counting…

Sixteen weeks, five days, seventeen hours and fifty-seven minutes weeks since he had last seen his big brother.

Sixteen weeks, five days… to hell with it: it didn’t _matter!_ The _only_ thing that mattered was that Dean had walked out of the Bunker: walked out of Sam’s _life_ … and somehow completely vanished from the face of the Earth.

Not even Castiel had been able to find him, although the angel had tried repeatedly to do so: searching every inch of the entire world personally over and over again, regretting the Enochian warding he himself had once placed on Dean to keep him safe because it now hid his best friend from his own angelic eye.

Castiel had searched nearly as desperately as Sam himself had.

As Sam _always_ would. For the rest of his life if necessary.

He would _never_ give up looking for his brother.

 _Never_.

With yet another sigh Sam checked his cell phone. No messages. Again.

Not that he had expected to hear anything really.

But he always _hoped._..

Sam had put the word out around the Hunting community that Dean was missing - taken by something unknown for reasons yet to be uncovered. He might have been possessed: he might be seriously hurt, possibly amnesiac. Whichever, whatever; the younger Winchester had issued strict instructions that if anyone thought they had caught even a possible _glimpse_ of his brother then they were to call Sam _immediately_.

Nobody else was to approach Dean at all…

_Nobody._

Because if they _did_ approach Dean, then they might find out about the _other_ time line that Sam was worried about.

The really _important_ one that made him all the more anxious to find Dean with every passing day. And for nobody _else_ to.

And Sam was all the more terrified every day he didn’t.

Because _this_ particular time line would only last approximately six months.

About twenty six weeks.

And Dean had already been gone for nearly seventeen of them. And Sam had no way of knowing how many weeks… _it_ … had happened before them.

Because Dean simply hadn’t stayed around long enough to _tell_ him: whether from shame, or embarrassment, or just plain and simple shock and trauma from being trapped in that strange and frightening parallel world that his gentle and timid look-alike counterpart had been so terrified of, just when _whatever_ had happened that had resulted in his big brother now being pregnant.

Dean was pregnant.

Sam just couldn’t really get his head around it: his brother was _pregnant_. Somehow, somehow, Dean had returned… ‘different’. Slightly less _human_ and slightly more… whatever the other Dean had been… an omega, he had called himself…

… but… that didn’t matter.

Sam’s big brother was lost somewhere and pregnant and needed _help_ … and that was all that concerned the younger Winchester.

To find Dean, and bring him safely home to the Bunker and help him with whatever he was going through…

… because his big brother was the _only_ thing that had ever really mattered to Sam. _Period_.

If only Sam could just _find_ him.

It could only have been a matter of minutes that Dean had managed to slip past them and… Sam hesitated to use the word ‘escaped’… _left_ the Bunker.

Sam had just returned from a grocery run and Castiel _swore_ that he had only just checked on his brother, but… Dean had gone.

And he and the angel had looked _everywhere_.

But there had been no trace of Dean. No trace at all.

It was with another sigh that Sam reached into the rear seat of the Impala for his travel bag, out from which he had just about lived out for the past nearly seventeen weeks. The young man couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in his own bed… or even the last time he had walked through the Bunker’s solid outer door…

It just wasn’t _home_ without his brother.

He had picked this motel only because of the diner across the street: as much as he didn’t want to _not_ be searching for his brother for a minute… a minute that might provide that one vital clue as to Dean’s whereabouts… he still needed to eat. He still needed to _sleep_ , if only for a couple of hours.

He needed to shower, have a shave and wash some clothes… to hell with it: that could wait. Finding Dean was more important. He’d just grab a meal and try to have a powernap…

Well, perhaps he’d just grab a quick shower.

His cell phone buzzed with a text even as Sam exhaustedly began to plod across to the reception.

It also bleeped with a picture message.

The young man fumbled in his pocket for the small device and glanced at the new image tiredly: why the hell had someone sent him _that?_

It was an image of a two cars: the first a smart black Mercedes, and behind it was some old sedan that looked like there was probably more rust beneath the paintwork than metal. The picture had been taken from slightly to the side and from the front of the Merc, as if a red light camera had caught it, and showed its driver clearly: a young blonde woman wearing far too vivid lipstick.

The figures in the vehicle at the back were more obscure: some elderly, grey-haired man in the driver’s seat and someone sitting behind him in the rear of the car.

Sam frowned. And read the text: “Check the passenger at the back.”

His brows furrowed, Sam looked at the photo again, using his fingers to enlarge the image on the small screen as much as he could…

And then his bag was being discarded without a second thought to just drop to the dusty clinging dirt and Sam was calling the sender in a sudden rush of nervous anticipation: “Jody? _Jody!_ Where is this? Where was this taken? _When_ was it taken…?”

“D’ya think it might be him?” The sheriff had been biting her nails from the instant she had sent the photo. “I’ve been telling a few half-truths, Sam: I put out the word that Dean is a vulnerable adult who has disappeared after possibly witnessing a violent crime, possibly abducted by the perp so it’s vital that he not be approached in case he’s in danger, and instead any info however slight was to be sent immediately to my department marked for my attention only. It works sorta like a Silver Alert but not in the public domain…”

Sam was already examining the picture again even while she was talking: “It’s not quite clear enough… Jody? Can you send it to my laptop so I can enlarge it…?”

“I already have, boy. Here’s as big as I can get it…”

And Sam’s cell phone was binging with another picture message. The young man hurried to open it… and felt moisture pricking at the corners of his eyes…

For the distortion caused to the pixels in the enlargement focusing on just the passenger in the rear of the second vehicle may have made the image appear slightly grainy…

… but it was definitely Dean sitting in the car, staring idly out of the rear window as it had been driven along.

He looked thinner in the face than he had done previously, which the younger man was instantly concerned about. And he looked sad: the green eyes, although their natural vividness was hidden by the distortion of the expansion, held a deep sorrow. And a slight anxiety: his eyebrows were pulled together enough to form a deep furrow between them…

Sam hated seeing that anxiousness on his brother’s face. He hated it even more that he wasn’t there by Dean’s side to help him take at least half the strain…

Fuck it all: he should be by his brother’s side, _period_.

Dean needed help. He needed help like he _never_ had done before… and _Sam_ should have been right there by his side.

He had to _find_ him.

“Sam? You okay? It is _him_ , isn’t it?” The sheriff’s concerned voice cut through his anguished thoughts.

The younger Winchester recovered himself immediately: “Yes, Jody. _Yes!_ Where _is_ this? Is this today…?”

There was a hesitant pause from the other end of the line…

“Jody? How long ago was this…? _Please_ tell me it’s recent…”

“It was certainly fairly recent, Sam,” she hastened to assure him. “Y’all would never believe how many sightings, both reported and images like these from traffic cameras etc from around the country I’ve had to sift through every day for _weeks_. I’ve been inundated…

I just wanted to be sure before I got your hopes up, ya know…?”

Sam’s heart swelled with even more love for the brunette: she was probably the closest thing he would ever have to a mother… besides his brother of course… “Thanks Jody.”

The sheriff blinked back a tear at the emotional sincerity in her boy’s… er… the young man’s voice. “According to the date stamp this was taken four days ago, and it’s come in from the County’s department in Tulsa…”

“ _Tulsa?_ Tulsa, _Oklahoma?_ What the hell is he doing _there? How_ the hell did he even _get_ there…? I…”

“We’ll find him, Sam.” The younger Winchester could have cried at the calm confidence in the sheriff’s voice. “It’s Dean, and we now know where he was just a few days ago…

You just gotta hold on, because we’re gonna _find_ him, boy. Ain’t no doubt about that.

Now. You git yourself over to meet me in Tulsa and we’ll organise a plan.”


	2. Chapter Two

“Jeez, boy, you look _terrible_.”

Despite himself, Sam snorted. He knew he looked terrible… because he knew he _felt_ terrible.

The instant the call with Jody had disconnected, Sam had got back into the Impala and driven just about continuously for over twenty four hours to get to Tulsa, Oklahoma, only stopping when he needed either to fill up with gas, to use the rest room or to grab something trashy and tasteless that was easy to eat in the car, (which he was never going to admit to Dean that he had done… _ever_.)

He was exhausted. But it didn’t matter. He was getting closer to finding Dean.

Oh God, _please_ let him be getting closer to finding his brother.

“So what have we got?” Sam was already shaking off the weariness as a lifetime’s training of putting one’s personal discomforts aside to focus on the matter at hand kicked in as he stepped into the room…

… for Jody had beaten him to their arranged rendezvous, a motel just off the main freeway on the edge of the city, by nearly half a day and already had an evidence board set up… and Sam wanted to _see_ it. “Sheriff? Have you managed to narrow our search of field down at all? Do we know where that photo _actually_ came from…?”

“Hold ya horses, Sam. Hug first! Then sommat to eat… You look like ya haven’t been taking care of yourself and that ain’t gonna do your brother no good! And what is this? You been growing a bird’s nest, boy?!”

The young man couldn’t help but laugh as the brunette tugged jokingly, but quite firmly, at the shaggy uncontrolled growth that had sprouted from his chin and neck in the preceding couple of months since his brother had gone missing. He had kept his hair clean as carelessly and as often as he had washed his body, but anything more than the basics had been forgotten: nothing had mattered to him, nothing would _ever_ matter, as much as finally finding Dean.

But he accepted the hug from Jody with a slightly lighter heart.

“He’s gonna hate it, Sam!” The sheriff teased good-naturedly. “All that straggle! That’s the first thing he’s gonna gripe about when we get him back: ya _know_ he is…”

The dimples went deep for the first time in a long couple of months: “I’m counting on it, Jody. Give him something to moan about… Take his mind off… off…”

“Off what he’s going through: having a baby ya mean?” Jody nodded. “No wonder he freaked out on ya… He really needs our help, Sam.”

Her heart broke a little as she noticed Sam’s eyes glisten momentarily… and then the young man blinked and they were dry and determined once more. “He’s going to hate that I told you, Jody. He’ll be so angry at me… and ashamed of himself, even though he’s got no cause to be: _he_ can’t have helped what happened. He’s somehow going to have a child: _that_ ain’t normal… but he’s going to feel that it’s his fault because that’s what he always does, I…”

She put her arms around him again, but this time it stood for far more than a friendly greeting between old friends. This was heartfelt. “He’s no _reason_ to be ashamed, boy. He can’t have helped what’s happened to him… and he needs his family around him. We just gotta remind him of that and _keep_ reminding him of that, is all.”

Her own tears gathered as suddenly Sam’s own strong arms were wrapping tightly around her as well, almost crushing her momentarily… and his words were whispered hoarsely but sincerely into her shoulder: “Thanks, Jody.”

“You’re welcome, boy.”

“Sam? Hey!”

He turned to greet the newcomer with a surprised smile _and_ a question. “Hey, Claire. What are _you_ doing here?”

The sheriff snorted: “You ever tried keeping a secret from a Hunter? You and Dean ever managed to…?”

Sam’s smile slipped a little even as the beautiful young blonde closed the motel room door behind her and advanced on him for a hug: “Nah… sooner or later it would all come out. Caused just about every bad decision that either of us have ever made…”

“ _Exactly_.” Jody agreed. “Claire’s as worried as I am about Dean’s disappearance. And she wanted to know why he vanished like that… didn’t take her long to hack the messages on my cell.” She gave Sam’s arm a sharp jab. “Dunno _who_ could have taught her _that…”_

“Is it true?” Claire demanded. “Dean’s been turned? He’s… become something else? And is having a… a… _baby?_ How the hell is that possible?”

Sam sighed. But he appreciated the genuine concern in her voice.

And he appreciated even _more_ so the complete lack of any kind of judgement in it.

He glanced at Jody, who shrugged her shoulders: “I’ve told her what I know, Sam. Which to be honest, ain’t that much. You wanna elaborate…? Just a _little,_ boy _?_ ”

With a sigh, the young man moved away from both the women to sit on one of the twin beds in the room, stretching his long legs out in front of him with relief after all the hours spent in the impala. He really wasn’t looking forward to answering questions but he knew that the sheriff had waited long enough.

“He literally vanished in front of me.” The memory of that day was still vivid in Sam’s mind. “We were trying to catch a were… well, it turned out to be _two_ weres and a mastermind warlock…” he shook his head at himself: that part wasn’t important. “We had tracked one to a warehouse in Kansas City. Then Dean saw this… he said it was glowing blue. I couldn’t see it… asked him what it was. _Stupid_.” He admonished himself. “I should have _thought_... Should have dragged him _out_ of there…

It was a trap for him, and I let him walk straight into it.”

“Wasn’t your fault, boy.” Jody was watching the young man’s expression carefully and was _not_ going to let him borrow his brother’s capacity for self-condemnation. “ _You_ didn’t know what was going to happen…”

The only sign that Sam was listening was yet another big sigh.

“So what happened?” Claire asked desperately: the more she knew, the better she could help her friend and (although she would never admit it) almost father-figure. “What was the blue thing?”

“I don’t know.” Sam had to admit. “Not even now. To me it looked like a stone but Dean… _both_ Dean’s… said…”

“Wait! What? _Both_ Dean’s?” The two women spoke almost in unison: at any other time it would have been amusing. “How can there be two?” “What are you talking about, boy?”

“Dean touched the blue-glowing stone and vanished, and in his place was suddenly left _another_ Dean!” Sam had no choice but to talk over them. “He _looked_ exactly the same, and sounded exactly the same, but he _wasn’t_ the same.

He was from another world… dimension… I don’t what or where or how. But he was a male that could give birth… he called himself an _omega_ , whatever one of those is… and…

… he was _terrified_.

Of other people. _Everyone_.

The other Dean was scared stiff of everyone and everything, because of what he was. He was an omega and in _that_ world, they are the lowest.” Sam felt tears prickle again as he remembered his brother’s look-alike and how nervous he had been all the time: Jody and Claire stared at him with consternation as the unpleasantness of the situation and the pressure caused by it became more and more obvious. “The lowest in status… _their_ status.

They’re like…” the young man tried to think of a way to explain… “it’s like… in that world, they’re descended from animals: dogs, _wolves_ , although Dean… _that_ Dean… actually seemed to be from a feline lineage… whereas we in this dimension are descended from apes. They certainly have a much better sense of smell than us and use it as a major sense.

Alphas are the leaders of the society… think of our wolves and other animals that run in packs. The Alphas are the ones with the power. The betas are the majority and the basis of that society: they’re more like you and me, only the women can give birth. And the omegas… they’re the…”

“Lowest?” The sheriff wasn’t making a joke. Rather, she was frowning.

“In the worst way, Jody.” Sam couldn’t help from growling at the thought. “They were thought of as little more than sex-objects: _objects_ being the word. From what _that_ Dean told me, his life was a misery: even though he was married… mated, they called it… to _my_ look-alike of that world and _his_ brother before you ask…” he ignored the startled gasps of both the women, “men… women… _Alphas_ , would come up to him continually and ask for… _expect_ … him to serve them sexually.

Because he was an omega… _is_ an omega. Never mind that he was marr… mated, and had children, that’s what it was like. And that was the least of it! Omegas were vanishing, being taken for the… the… sex-trade. They would be drugged to keep them in this thing called a heat… again, think of dogs and that thing the females go into when they’re ready to breed… and they would never be found…

Dean… _tha_ t Dean… was absolutely petrified: both of being _away_ from that world and his much-adored children, and of having to return _to_ it! And he was worried sick for _my_ Dean… our Dean…”

“Why? _Dean’s_ not an omega! I mean…” Claire’s words slowed as she thought through what she had just been about to say… “ _you’re_ saying that’s what he is _now_. That somehow there he… But he wasn’t when he _got_ there: he was still human…”

“Like I said, the other Dean had a very strong sense of smell,” Sam reminded the blonde. “I mean… _really_ strong! He had never even been in the Bunker before… that’s where we live, Dean and I… _my_ Dean, I mean… anyway I took him back there because he didn’t feel safe anywhere else… he really was _terrified_ of anyone and _every_ one: it was almost funny but… it _wasn’t_ … and he just took one deep breath as he walked in through the door and knew which was Dean’s room… _my_ Dean’s room… and which was mine, and what we had eaten there recently and…”

“Take a breath yourself, Sam.” Jody was amused despite the seriousness of the conversation. “Y’all must be running out of air in ya lungs!”

And indeed the young man _did_ have to take a deep inhale as he remembered… “He said I made him feel safe because I smelt exactly like his mate, his Alpha. The Sam of that world: his own damn _brother_. He said my scent was weaker but it was still the same…

So… he was worried that Dean’s…”

“He was worried that Dean would be mistaken for an omega in that world because if _you_ shared the same aroma as your counterpart, then it would be logical that the both of _them_ did as well.” The practiced intuition of the long-serving cop was making Jody already far ahead of him. “And if he got mistaken for an omega, and they got treated like you _said_ then… Shit, Sam,” her deep brown eyes were as full of troubled sorrow as he had ever seen them, “what the hell must he have gone through? On his own there with no one to help him?”

“I don’t know.” The younger Winchester hadn’t been able to think about anything else for the last few months. “That’s the worst of it: I just don’t _know_.

He got _himself_ back, Jody. Somehow. The stone began to glow again and swapped them back because _he_ did something in _that_ dimension and got _himself_ back: I was absolutely _useless_.”

Both women remained momentarily silent, such was their intense concentration on his words.

Sam couldn’t help but feel it as condemnation.

“But he was really… erratic… from what happened. I mean… everything he’d been through, and he was so…

And then we didn’t handle it very well… Castiel and myself, I mean… and, well, Cas immediately noticed the… the… the baby inside him, which was a tremendous shock to Dean. He was traumatised anyway when he returned: he had several broken bones and he had been stabbed...”

“ _Stabbed!_ You never told me _that_ , boy!” “Is he alright, Sam?”

“Yeah… yes, Claire. Cas healed him immediately we realised, but… looking back, it’s obvious now that Dean was in shock when he returned. Whatever happened in that fucking world…

And Castiel told him… in Cas’s own unique way…” the blonde snorted at this description of the angel’s bluntness despite herself, “that he was pregnant. Dean could barely take it _in_ , and then I got… well, I… I should have been a lot calmer than I was…

Between us we got him so agitated that finally Cas had to subdue him…

And when he woke up… he _ran._

Shit. I should have been there when he woke up. I should have been there to tell him that _whatever’s_ happened, I’m there for him.”

“As am I.” The deep gravelly voice made them all start. Castiel had materialised in the corner of the room, complete with two bags full of steaming hot take-out. “I am so sorry, Sam. _I_ should have been there when he woke: I should never have left his side. He was so upset at what I had done… I should have apologised…”

“It’s okay, Cas.” Sam interrupted. “We were both at fault that day. Only thing that matters now is to find him. _Hey!_ When did you get here anyway?” he realised.

“He was waiting for me when I got here.” Jody replied although her eyes were narrowed: she hadn’t missed the sudden ending of the tale, nor Sam’s reluctance to let the angel elaborate further. There was something that the boy didn’t want to tell her to do with Dean’s disappearance, and she had the horrible feeling that she wasn’t going to like whatever it was when she _did_ find out.

“He flew here the moment you called him and has been searching the area, but in vain…”

“There’s nothing here within a hundred mile radius, Sam.” Castiel agreed with a miserable down-turn to his mouth. “ _Dean_ is not here. I have searched everywhere down to the smallest molecules for any trace of him. So I thought I should come and meet the good lady Sheriff here and try to perhaps find the car or something…”

“I keep telling ya, Cas: it’s _Jody!_ The boys and Claire have told me enough about ya for y’all to be family.”

“Thank you.” The dark-haired angel looked genuinely touched at her words, but then he was remembering the bags of food. “Did I stay away long enough? I tried to. But I must admit I agree, Sam, that Dean will be extremely perturbed about the uncontrolled growth of hair on your head when we do find him: it is somewhat…”

“Messy.” Straggly.” “Unkempt.” The disapproval was unanimous. Sam sighed, but then realised…

“That was one of the first things we discussed when I _got_ here! How long have you been there _really?_ ”

Castiel had the grace to look abashed. “The Sheriff said that she wanted to talk to you: your explanation of how Dean is having a child has been… somewhat deficient in its detail. She hoped that you would expand on it, and asked me to take my time getting you all something to eat. Only…”

“You flew, so you were probably back almost before you had gone.” Sam finished the sentence for him. “Still not nice to eavesdrop, Cas. But… thanks for giving us a few minutes.

Have you any other questions or can we get on?” This was to the two females, even as his attention was already returning to the evidence board.

Although the younger Winchester was stopped in his tracks by Jody’s sarcastic drawl: “Actually, I got _lots_. Everything you’re _not_ telling me to be exact.” _God_ , she reminded Sam of Bobby sometimes! But then the brunette was relenting: “But, like I said, food first… you seriously do look like death, boy. And finding your brother safe is the main objective… preferably _before_ he gives birth.

And ain’t _that_ something I’d never thought I’d ever say!

The truth can come later.”

The young man couldn’t help but stare momentarily down at his own boots, unable to meet her eyes… as did the angel, but at his own highly polished shoes… but then the urgency of the situation was overtaking him again.

“So, okay. What have we got?”

Sam actually meant the evidence board…

But what he _heard_ was: “Thai alright?” And the young man was having boxes of steaming pad thai noodles thrust at him: “Chicken or shrimp? Or both?”

Actually Sam ended up eating _three_ boxes of the tasty temptations… and savouring every single morsel… as they all studied the maps and pictures that the sheriff had pulled together. Just being in company… familial company… brought it home to the young man how alone he had felt since his brother’s disappearance.

And just how much he had missed him.

“The picture was actually taken on Harrison Street in somewhere called Pawnee in Oklahoma.” Jody explained through a mouthful of noodles. “Five days ago now.”

“Shit, I’ve wasted a whole day getting here!” Sam was distraught. “We’re twenty-four hours further behind him that we could have been!”

“But we’ve got an area to look in, Sam.” Jody was calm. “He’s relaxed in the rear of that car. He knows who he’s with: he’s not under duress…”

“He’s _anxious_. Look at him.” The young man all but exploded.

“He’s worried about the imminent birth,” Claire told him. “Of course he’s anxious… and probably scared. _I’d_ be _terrified_.”

“Yeah, well, that’s _years_ away, girl.” Jody was quick to put in.

The blonde snorted: “Won’t ever happen!”

“ _Anyway,_ ” Sam interjected. “Have you got anything else? Anything on the car? The other faces?”

The sudden silence in the room told him the answer.

“Give us time, boy,” the sheriff made sure to sound confident. “We’ll find him.”

Sam bit his lip and tried his hardest not to be sarcastic: that was _Dean’s_ forte.

God, how he missed him.

Forgetting the last couple of forkfuls of noodles in the third box, the younger Winchester stepped forward to study the map of the area that Jody had pinned up. “So… tell me about Pawnee then. What sort of town is it? One where everybody knows everybody else’s business? Is there anybody worth sounding out about any strangers moving in?”

“No idea, Sam. I haven’t even been there yet. It’s part of the reserve…”

“Reserve?”

The tribe. The Pawnees. Native Americans. The town is named after them, and that’s where a lot of them now live.”

“I checked the whole area, Sam.” Castiel said with genuine sadness in his face. “Dean is not anywhere there.”

“But he will need a doctor… or medical help.” Claire spoke up. “With what he’s going to be going through imminently, I mean. Dean’s gonna need _someone_.”

“So… that someone was probably the man in the car. And he brought our boy into the town for some reason… Dean looks anxious, but it’s not ‘cos of the driver. He’s relaxed with _him_.”

“So he’s an ally: whoever he is.” Sam studied what he could make out of the driver from the picture: the elderly lined face; the silvering sideburns; the slightly outsize nose, trying to memorise what details he could in case they should ever meet in the street.

“And it’s not a large place, so it was for a specific reason that he went there… And well, let’s face it, Dean won’t be getting any smaller… how soon do’ya reckon this is gonna happen, boy?”

Sam considered: “The other Dean said the omega’s gestation period lasted approximately six months… twenty six weeks… and I don’t when exactly… whatever… happened, but he’s already been missing over sixteen of them since he returned from that world…”

“Do you think he was raped, Sam?” There was a pause as the older adults in the room winced at Claire’s directness…

“That would seem to be the case, yes.” The angel’s tone was grave.

“Cas! For goodness sake!” Jody admonished him. “ _And_ you!” She started on the blonde.

“What? I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking…”

“Well, it ain’t _helping!_ And it ain’t important, either. All that’s imperative is getting Dean back safe: he needs our help no matter _what_ the situation!”

“And he’s got it, Jody! I’m not saying he won’t! Dean’s _family_ , and he’s got my support unconditionally! I’m… just seeing it how it probably is… and why he ran away… and why we’re gonna get him back and damn well get _through_ to him that he’s not on his own.”

There was another pause in the room… and more than one pair of eyes had to blink again tears of pride at the young blonde’s words.

But then Sam’s focus was suddenly back on the board again: “Wait. Pawnees? What do we know about them?”

“In what way?” “What d’ya mean?”

“Well… many Native Americans have stories that mention Spirit animals…”

“The _other_ Dean was protected by a Spirit animal.” The mention of that had immediately caught Castiel’s attention as well. “It saved _our_ lives as well!”

“Spirit animal?”

But Jody was ignored momentarily as Sam hurried to fire his laptop up: “So is it coincidence that he’s here? Who _are_ the Pawnees?”

They all crowded around as the young man found a website and began to read the information out loud. “Pawnees. One of the indigenous peoples that lived on this land before the arrival of the white man, now federally recognised… hunters, not farmers… known for their bravery in battle, and who have had representatives serve in all American conflicts…”

Sam couldn’t help but give a sharp, short inhale of breath as he continued: “Just like most of the tribes, they believe in symbiotic relationships with nature and the animals around them to the point of it being thought of as spiritual… but the Pawnees also have deities. Their gods are _stars_ , particularly the Evening Star, the goddess of darkness and fertility, and the Morning Star, the god of fire and light.

But they also believe in the _Moon_ god Pah, and his lovely consort Shakuru, the Sun goddess.”

There was a silence in the room.

Broken by the angel. “I definitely felt the presence of… being _observed_ from the heavens, Sam: I felt… there is no other to put it… _eyes_ on me.

And Dean… the other Dean… was convinced that there was a female moon god: _she_ was protecting him… as indeed she, or something, proved to _be_. That spirit animal was definitely sent by _something_ , Sam. We both _saw_ it: well, you were definitely aware of its presence in that warehouse. And the werewolves knelt to it in awe, and the warlock… his magic was destroyed as if it were _nothing_ … and that thing had extremely powerful magic!

Sam?”

“He’s here, Cas.” The young man was trying to hide how emotional he was suddenly feeling: he felt almost nauseous with nerves and relief, and he was aware of how his hands were suddenly trembling uncontrollably. “He’s _here_. Somewhere. We’re so _close_.” Sam didn’t even realise that he was rambling somewhat. “After all these months, we’re so close to _finding_ him.”

The mood in the room lightened momentarily… only to be immediately dashed once more by a sad Castiel. “But he is _not_ , Sam. I have looked everywhere within a hundred mile radius since the sheriff contacted you. And not just once, but… many times in case.

Dean is not _anywhere_ in this vicinity.”

There was another poignant pause in the room: no one wanted to be the one to break the silence…

Well… except perhaps for Claire.

“But this is _Dean. He’d_ know how to draw sigils to hide himself, even from _Castiel._ And with you saying there’s an actual _god_ involved… well, then... If he doesn’t want to be found, then he’s not gonna be _found_.”

“Goddess.” The angel corrected. “A moon _goddess_ : the other Dean was very particular about that.”

But Sam was frowning… and thinking the young blonde’s words through: “Okay… You’re right. He’s been wanting to hide from us... that’s been just about the whole problem…”

“But I have looked _everywhere_ , Sam.” Cas argued. “There _is_ nowhere for him to hide.”

“No.” The young man suddenly realised: “No! Claire’s got it _spot on!_ Dean’s not trying to _hide_ : he just doesn’t want to be _found_. He doesn’t want to be found.

Cas. Can you search the area again… but this time… Don’t _look_ for _Dean_.

Just…

… look and see if something strikes you as abnormal.”

“I don’t comprehend, Sam.”

“Try again, but this time… look in case there’s anything you _can’t_ see.” The sheriff was also following the logic. “In case there’s anything hidden _between_ the molecules…”

“Between the…” It was almost worth it… Sam couldn’t help but grin to himself… to see the angel’s expression so… completely _nonplussed_. But then Castiel was nodding grimly and disappearing from the room in a sudden noise of flapping wings.

“I better head there as well.” The young man was already packing his laptop away and reaching for his bag. “We’re still a good six or seven hours from Pawnee. I need to be there when Cas finds… whatever he finds…”

“He can come back and tell us, boy. In the meantime, you need to get some sleep. Ya look like ya haven’t slept for days: now… git on that bed. We’ll wake you when there’s news…”

“No, I need to be…”

“ _Samuel William Winchester_ : now you do as you’re darned well _told_ and get some sleep! Ya ain’t helping your brother none by driving yourself into the ground looking for him! The hard bit’s gonna be _after_ we find him… so you get yourself on that unused bed and I don’t want to hear from you for at least four hours!

 _Go on: git!_ ”

Yeah, Jody really did remind Sam of Bobby…

… And there was no way he was going to even _dare_ to argue…

“Yes, ma’am. But… promise me you’ll wake me as soon as Cas returns.”

“Of _course_ we will.” The younger Winchester felt slightly suspicious of the innocence in both the woman’s tones… but… actually… he was absolutely exhausted. A power nap couldn’t do any harm…

Half an hour, or so…

Cas probably wouldn’t be that long anyway…

Please god, let the angel find something. Let him find Dean.

Jody helpfully turned the main light off even as he shrugged his boots and lay down on the covers of the single bed still in all his clothes. Claire snickered a little and called out “ _Goodnight_ Sam,” earning herself a punch on the arm and a hissed reprimand from the sheriff as they both left the room to give him some peace.

Sam lay awake in the gloom, thinking of his missing brother: worried about what he might be going through on his own. This was ridiculous: he shouldn’t be wasting time, he should on the way to Pawnee. He should just get up and get going… and risk the wrath of the feisty sheriff at a later date…

He was just going to get up off the bed and be on his way…

Sam opened his eyes again and groaned slightly. Reaching for his cell, he came to fully with a start upon the realisation that some seven hours had somehow passed since he had ‘just’ lain down.

Looking across the motel room, he could see Jody and Claire now also returned… and Castiel, sitting at the table with the women with maps spread all across the cheap laminated surface.

Sam sat up with a gasp: “ _Cas!_ ”

“Hey, sleeping beauty! You go and grab yourself a shower and we’ll bring you up to speed!”

“But…”

“Go.”

“I’ll get you fresh coffee.” The angel broke into the discussion, unintentionally diffusing the increasing tension. “There’s _news_ , Sam.”

“And more bagels!” Claire ordered.

“And more bagels.” And with that Castiel was gone again.

Sam really wanted to cross to the table and see what was being scrutinised so microscopically… but instead he grabbed his bag with a sigh and went into the bathroom. It wouldn’t do to argue with Jody… _especially_ after she had been so right about how much he had desperately needed sleep…

He managed to make sure it was the shortest shower he had ever had in his entire life though.

They were all back to sitting around the table when Castiel returned with three steaming hot cups of coffee and a hot chocolate drink for himself. And a box full of mixed bagels.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“You and the sheriff were quite correct, Sam: Dean has hidden himself _between_ the molecules.”

The younger Winchester waited. With increasing impatience. “ _And?_ ” he couldn’t help from snarling eventually.

“For goodness sake, Cas! You’ve been watching too many of those darned talent show reveals where we all die of boredom waiting to be told who’s going home! _Tell Sam what you found!”_

“I have checked and rechecked to ensure that I am correct, Sam.” The angel was finally on a roll. “I searched the town but found nothing that did not seem unexpected. So then I moved into the surrounding lands and again found nothing… until I got to these hills that are highlighted on these maps…”

The young man couldn’t help but try and steal a glance: as indicated, these were much more detailed and focusing on Pawnee itself and the surrounding area, rather than Oklahoma in general. Jody and Claire had obviously been busy during his sleep. But then he was listening intently again…

“… and as you suggested… I was standing on the side of this hill and I became aware that there was a track… a driveable track… coming from the direction of the town and heading towards a large group of trees at the end. The track was large enough… and dusty enough that I followed it to the edge where it entered the field… and there was a creaky old gate and a mail box.

And so I came back to where I had been standing and I began to look closer at where the track seemed to lead, and I realised that I could see the leaves of the trees… but at an angle somehow,, as if I wasn’t staring at them directly but was having my attention forced towards them…

And if I changed _my_ angle, then the leaves would also adjust…

It took me some considerable time to comprehend that my vision was indeed being… tangented from seeing whatever was right in front of me… somehow. Indeed, in that place, I simply can _not_ see what is right in front of me! My vision, when I am looking at, or trying to, at whatever it was that should be there… is being slid away to the side somehow and away from my ability to fully absorb what I should be seeing. I admit to finding the experience somewhat… _disconcerting_ … and actually… extremely _vexing._ ”

“He returned here and we looked the area up on Google maps.” Claire told Sam. “It took a bit of working out which was the actual area that Cas was finding this anomaly in: we highlighted a lot of the satellite images of fields and tracks and printed them out while you were asleep…”

“It’s this one, we’re pretty sure.” Jody uncovered a picture and handed it over to the young man. “Castiel has immediately recognised all the other buildings as ones he has checked. And he recognises this trail as matching the one that caught his attention. But he has never seen the dwellings there…”

“They are hidden from me, Sam.” He had never heard the angel sound so troubled. “I have been kept repelled from buildings by sigils and held prisoner by anointed seals of holy oil, but I have never before had my senses toyed with so _definitively_ …

I took a copy of this image with me back to the scene that I had indentified.” He pointed out the details to the young man as he spoke. “It is definitely the place: I myself flew up so as to be able to compare the image taken as it is from so far above…

There is the track with the same sweep of curve: it enters the image from exactly the same corner and exactly the same angle, and the trees, although now even more grown than they were in this picture as the satellite would have passed over a few years ago, are in the same position.

So it is the same place.

Which means those two small buildings there…” Castiel indicated the cabins, whose simple roofs could be clearly made out on the photograph, half beneath the shady covering of the thick branches and leaves to give a little protection away from the intense heat of the Oklahoma sun. “… should also be in the same place… but I can’t see them.

When I look where they should be, even looking down on them, it is as if my attention is just… being side-swiped by something. I can’t seem to see them directly: my vision just… slides off and I can do nothing to stop it. I am extremely… nonplussed. I can see them on this old grainy image, but not in reality…”

“So you think, this is where _Dean_ is?” Sam hadn’t really heard a word since he had been handed the print of the photograph: instead he was running his long fingers over the image of the buildings, trying to get the slightest sensation beneath them of much-needed physical proximity to his brother. “One looks much bigger: or at least, the roofs do. Two separate chalet-type dwellings? Or a cabin and an out-house? But this is where he _is…?”_

“This is where he’s gotta be, boy.” The sheriff agreed. “Castiel has made several visits to confirm that there’s no mistake and we’ve not muddled the area up with anywhere else: we’ve been over and over the google images and discounted all the other fields and tracks. It’s this meadow and this track, and just these two small buildings that he can’t _see!_ ”

“Which is _extremely_ vexing.”

The angel’s grumbles were ignored. Sam tapped his nails against the glossy surface of the pictures and felt his spirits soar: “Dean’s _here_.” For the second time recently in a long few months, his lips lifted enough for his cheeks to remember how to dimple, although his eyes had to blink away always-threatened tears at the same time…

“Yes, he is.” Jody looked at the young man and understood. “I’m sure of it. We know he’s been in this area of Oklahoma: we _know_ that something is somehow blocking Castiel’s view of whatever is in this building… it would make sense that the two are connected…”

“Then…” Sam felt so momentarily overwhelmed with relief that he couldn’t think… with the exception of one single consuming thought: Dean was in one of those two building, so that’s where _he_ should be as well. “I should be there. I shouldn’t have wasted time sleeping. I should be there right now! I… _shit_ : I’m still a good six hours away from him! I should have just driven there immediately Cas started searching; I should be there right _now!_ ”

“Boy. Calm down. You slept because you desperately needed sleep: believe me you did, ya looked like you were gonna fall down standing up. And _you’re_ gonna need the time while we’re all driving to Pawnee to work out how you’re gonna handle meeting up with your brother again without blowing it!”

“I… what?”

The sheriff was on a roll. “Look, Sam. You know I love ya and god knows I love ya brother. And I know you boys both have your issues and your quarrels: that’s family. And I _know_ that I’m not being told the truth here and I probably never will… But sommat happened…

And Dean ran from you.

_You!_

In this situation, where he needs more help than he’s ever needed before, he _ran_ from you!

So… You use this time to work out what you need to say, and what you need to do, because he don’t need upsetting any more. Not if he’s in the condition that we think he is. His thoughts are gonna be all over the place and he might well be… somewhat _temperamental_ : that’s probably more likely than the alternative at the moment.

So, you need to keep yourself calm and think all your arguments so you don’t mess it up. Because Dean can’t be upset, and more importantly, he can’t be forced to feel he has to _run_ again.”

“He’s not going to.” Sam told her. “I’m going to find him and I’m going bring him home where he belongs.”

“That isn’t quite what I meant…”

“I _get_ what you meant, Jody. And I appreciate it. But I need to find my brother and I need to bring him to the Bunker where I know he’ll be safe.”

“Well, you gotta be the _calm_ one about it, boy.” Jody tried again. “Cos he ain’t.”

“Got it, sheriff.”

But even as he was speaking, Sam was already on his way to the motel room door: his holdall clutched in one hand and the photo, tight to the point of being slightly screwed up in his grip, in the other. And he _wasn’t_ going to be turned back.

Jody sighed and hurriedly began to get her own things together. “Just wait for us in Pawnee, Sam.” She called after him. “We’ll meet up again and make a plan. Just don’t go after Dean without us being there.

C’mon, girl,” this was to Claire, who was also hastily throwing her toiletries into her main bag and packing all the photographs and documents up. “Let’s go and help the one idjit to find the other idjit… and hope that neither one makes this whole darned situation any _worse_ than it is in the meantime!”


	3. Chapter Three

“So. Do we all know the plan?”

It was actually quite simple. They had met up some hours down the road since leaving Tulsa, (to Sam’s disgust and at Jody’s insistence) in a diner in Pawnee, to ensure that they had all had a rest and some warm fresh food in their bellies before continuing with the hunt under cover of the darkness of a countryside night.

They had also used the time spent munching burgers and salads to detail exactly where the unknown dwellings were, and to decide how best to proceed…. which, as Sam was determined he was going to look for his brother no matter what… and god, demon or nothing else had better get in his way or _else_ … and Castiel still couldn’t actually physically _see_ the buildings in question anyway, proved to be fairly simple to allocate roles.

They were going to drive to the specified area as close as they could get, and then the younger Winchester was going to break into the larger of the two dwellings in the hopes of finding Dean, while Claire and the sheriff would quickly check the smaller building (which they all felt looked more like an outhouse anyway) and then move to join him once their search was complete.

The angel would stay outside in the field as a guard and/or back-up depending upon what he might or might be suddenly able to perceive… if anything at all.

But it still had proved irritatingly slow to Sam for them to finally find the correct dirt track in the dark starry-clear night of Oklahoma, and then to find somewhere that he and Claire could hide the vehicles out of any nosy onlooker’s view while they carefully made their way across the large meadowed pasture down towards the dwellings in question, until dawn was only actually a couple of hours away by the time he _finally_ felt the wood of the cabin that he hoped his brother was in beneath his fingertips.

It was with some considerable nervous trepidation that the young man picked the lock on the rear door, and let himself into the building.

His flashlight solidified the impression of it being a cabin. There was a fairly large open living area, with kitchen cupboards and a breakfast bar at the one end he had entered, and a huge television set complete with entertainment centre, and accompanying incredibly comfortable-looking chairs at the other.

The light from his torch followed the treads of a set of stairs as they disappeared to a second level… and Sam momentarily thought about accompanying it… but then his attention was caught by a door at the end of the cabin. Sneaking across to see what was behind it, he found himself in a short hallway with two more doorways.

Behind one proved to be a small restroom: basic facilities and a small walk-in shower.

The second room, as Sam shone his flashlight around from the safety of the doorway didn’t look to be full of much… but then he heard a steady breathing, and a sleepy mumble that he had heard most nights just about his whole life, and his heart all but missed a beat…

He didn’t know what he had actually intended to _do_ upon seeing Dean: Sam hadn’t really _thought_ that far beyond finding his brother, and finding him safe.

But… just for a second… Sam stood in the doorway and stared at the occupied bed in the makeshift bedroom with full-on tears of relief in his eyes…

… and then he was bodily flinging himself forward to the bed beside his brother: his only clear intention simply being to wrap his arms tightly around the older man and pledge to them both that he was never, _ever_ , going to let him go out of his sight ever again.

_Ever._

Dean came awake instantly Sam took a step into the small room, his Hunter instincts as sharp than ever, and he was reaching for the knife hidden beneath his pillow even as his younger brother managed to land full length and fully-clothed alongside him: long arms and large hands frantically grappling to stop the blade being struck in his direction. “Dean! _Dean!_ It’s me! _”_

To his relief, Sam managed to grasp Dean’s wrist even as it stalled in its thrust: the sharp cruel metal glinting viciously in the other’s hand even as abruptly woken green eyes tried to make sense of the situation unfolding in the near darkness. “Wha…?”

“It’s _me!_ It’s me.” And Sam was trying to wrap his arms around the combination of Dean and the bed covers, (that he was now hampering himself with due to them being held in position beneath his own weight as well), and throwing a leg across both the other man’s because, knowing his brother it might well prove to be necessary, and pull him close…

But even though Dean was no longer trying to stab him… for the moment at least… Sam could feel how tense his brother was, and how he was trying to pull away… and the younger man could see the furrows caused by the other’s eyebrows even despite the gloom of the room and how confused he was looking …

… at Sam.

A memory flashed through the younger Winchester’s mind.

“Scent me!”

“What?”

“ _Scent_ me!” The memory in his head… memories… were clear: of Dean… the _other_ Dean… who had used his nasal sense probably more than every other one beside that of touch: his nostrils had twitched continually throughout the time that Sam had _known_ him, inhaling each and every little piece of information that the world around had to offer. “It’s _me_ , Dean! Just… scent me.” The younger man tried to make his voice sound calm. And tilted his head to bear his neck in an offering…

The older man stared at him momentarily as if in a daze… but then obediently leant forward on the bed and buried his nose into the scraggy mess of greasy and unkempt overgrown hair that Sam had forgotten now covered not only his head but also his face, chin and throat… and inhaled.

Then Dean inhaled again, another deep breath… and to the younger man’s relief, Sam felt his brother slowly relax against him as he finally fully recognised the large man hidden behind the newly grown fuzz. “Sammy? What are _you_ doing here?”

“Shhh.” And his arms were tightening their hold to pull Dean even closer and he was burrowing his lips into the other’s soft head of hair and breathing in the feel of the older man as his eyes once more prickled with enough moisture to this time overflow down his cheeks and he didn’t care… Sam didn’t _care_ … he had found his brother and he was here _safe_ and he was _never_ letting him go.

They lay in companionable silence for a long few moments… but then Dean was tensing up again. “Sam? What…? I mean…? How did you find me?”

“I’ve looked and looked, and I never would have _stopped_ looking for you, Dean. I _never_ would.”

“Yes, but…”

“You know I never would.”

There was a pause… but this time it wasn’t quite as companionable. “Dean? You do _know_ I’d never had stopped looking for you, don’t you?”

“I…”

Sam loosened his hold enough to be able to wriggle slightly down the bed until he could see his brother properly face-to-face. Dean was pale, too pale for the younger man’s liking: he looked like he had been out of the sun completely for the last few months, and the pallor of his skin was causing the green of his eyes to be vivid even in the gloom of the small room.

And he looked… nervous… worried… _scared?_ Sam couldn’t help but stare at him, his own eyes wide and drying quickly with his concern. “Dean? It’s okay. I’ve found you: you’re safe.”

“Why are you here, Sammy?” The tone wasn’t friendly, but Sam still couldn’t determine what other emotion was most prominent. “What are you going to do?”

“What am I…? What do you mean: what am I going to do? What do you _mean?_ ”

“I…”

“ _What_ … Dean?”

But his brother was looking away from him, staring across the gap between them to focus on Sam’s plaid over-shirt, and not his face, with a determined intensity that informed the younger man immediately that there would be no forthcoming conversation.

Which instantly pissed Sam off.

“Really? Are we _really_ going to do this? You just vanish out of the Bunker into thin air _months_ ago, leaving me and Cas worried _sick_ because we didn’t know where the _hell_ you were, or whether you were alive or dead, or even whether you were even still here in this world or back in _that_ world, or _what_ was going on!?

We’ve been looking for you for fucking _months!_ We’ve crisscrossed the fucking country on a weekly _basis_ looking for you!

And now you’re just going to _ignore_ me? You’re just going to do this damned… _silence_ of yours that you always do? This fucking ‘I’m fine’ thing that you always say but never really fucking _are?_ You think I don’t _know_ that? Or know _you?”_

There was a long silence in the room: this time, completely unfriendly. Sam just about bit through his own lip with anger but knew that he wouldn’t get anywhere by yelling any more at the other man: his brother always accused him and their dad of being equally mule-headed when in reality he could out-stubborn the _pair_ of them!

 _And_ Dean could outlast anyone when it came to hiding his feelings. For the simple reason that he didn’t think they _mattered_ , not to _anyone_.

And Sam knew that that was as much _his_ fault as their dad’s.

He sighed and tried to make his voice sound calm despite his inner exasperation: “Dean? What was that you once said to me? That there ‘ain’t no me if there ain’t no you’? Well… that goes both _ways_ , big brother. Please believe me!

It goes _both_ ways, Dean.”

His words worked. The other man raised his head enough to be able to stare at him with eyes-so-wide-they-were-almost-round in the darkness, but still didn’t say a word.

Sam suppressed another sigh with a lot of effort. And continued: “You disappeared in a matter of minutes, Dean. Minutes! Cas was _distraught_ : he blames himself for not being there when you woke up. And he thinks _I_ blame him as well, which I _don’t_ , because I know what a slippery piece of shit you can be!

Why did you leave? Why? And where the hell did you go because we looked _everywhere?_ Cas must’ve gone round the world three or four times that first night and I searched everywhere I could think of that you might have gone. We’ve been so worried! _Really_ we have! Where did you go…?

But that doesn’t matter: that doesn’t _matter!”_ Sam corrected himself with a shake of his head. “All that matters is we’ve found you… we’ve _found_ you…

And you’re safe: you’re okay. _Are_ you okay? _Please_ tell me you’re okay! We’ve found you and you’re okay, and you’re going to come home and we’re going to keep you _safe_. 

I swear, Dean. I _swear_. We’re going to keep you safe. Just come _home_. And if you’re worried about those monsters from that world that… that… that… raped you… then I’m never going to let them near you again, Dean. I swear _that_ as well. I’ll _never_ let them get near you again.”

His brother continued to stare at him… but then to Sam’s horror the green eyes were suddenly filling with tears, causing them to glisten and shine in the near gloom of the room momentarily before Dean once again ducked his head to stare again fixedly instead at the younger man’s solid chest…

… but this time with such sorrow in his action rather than stubbornness that it was almost palpable.

“Dean? Dean, talk to me: what’s going on?

C’mon, Dean,” as the older man simply curved his body into a basic banana-shape beneath the covers on the bed and buried his head against Sam’s over-shirts with the obvious intention of hiding his face… and more importantly his expression. It seemed natural to the younger brother to tighten his arms even more and press his lips into the soft, albeit slightly longer than normal hair, in response as his own heart seemed to stutter also in sympathy. “ _Talk_ to me, man: tell me what’s wrong.”

There was another long silence… but this time it didn’t matter. Sam knew Dean. He _knew_ that all he had to do was wait…

“It wasn’t rape.” The younger man had to strain his ears to make out the words as they were not only muffled by being mumbled into his shirts… but also… that he had never heard his brother’s voice so quiet…

… or sounding so miserable.

“What?”

There was another pause, but… “It wasn’t rape, Sammy. I… I don’t want you to think that of him. He didn’t rape me, I…

I should have been able to control myself. I shouldn’t ha…

His scent was just so…

Amazing is the wrong word, Sam. It just…

It _called_ to me. I mean physically… it was like a wave of _sense… senses_ … all of them… not only his scent but just him being in the room, and he would wrap his arm around me and I’d feel so… _safe:_ I know that sounds stupid… and then he’d smile… and, oh god… the way that he just made me feel with just a smile…

That’s all he had to do... just _smile_ , and I would see those dimples, deeper even than yours, and I would feel that everything could be okay… _would_ be okay… no matter what was going on with Manolli and whatever the hell that bastard was planning…

And his _laugh_ … it just… When Samuel _laughed_ , everything was just…” Dean’s eyes were filling with moisture again at the thought of the young Alpha that he had fallen so deeply in love with and just missed so _much_ …

 _“He_ was just…

I know I should have resisted…. I _should_ have been able to resist for god’s sake: I mean, I’m a grown man and he’s…

He’s only a _kid_ , and _I’m_ a grown-up. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I should have stopped him: I should’ve been _strong_ enough to…

Dean’s voice momentarily trailed off… but then he was suddenly straightening his body where he lay on the bed so that he could meet his brother’s eyes directly, his own still shining with threatened tears, and he was speaking his next words with determined authority. “He didn’t _rape_ me, Sam. He never did: he never would. If that disgusts you, then I’m sorry. But it wasn’t rape.

And I need you to know that… that I… I miss him. I miss him more than I ever thought that I’d ever miss anyone… even more than I missed you every time you left me…”

The green eyes overflowed and Sam sighed as his brother yet again had to look away as he tried to contain his tears. “But I shouldn’t have…” Dean snuffled. “I should have had more self-control…”

“You found your soul-mate.”

“What…?”

But Sam was trying to think… “An Alpha for every omega, and an omega for every Alpha.”

“ _What?_ ”

“That’s how the other Dean described it,” the incredulous younger man was trying to remember how it had been explained to him, “that the… moon goddess of that world created a perfect match for every man and woman… well… every Alpha and omega… that’s what that Dean was… is that what _you’re_ ….?

His words faltered as he felt his brother’s body stiffen against his… and Sam didn’t even have to see Dean’s expression to know that his chest had just been given a look of mixed complete outrage and disgust… but he wasn’t prepared for the stink that suddenly filled the room…

It was with genuine shock that Sam realised it was somehow emanating from the older man… and even more of a shock to realise that it was the stench of pure shame and self-loathing.

Hastily he continued along his original train of thought, completely unaware that he was now beginning to soothingly rub his brother’s back as he did, _and_ that the unpleasant smell slowly but almost immediately began to dissipate with each pass of his hand: “The _other_ Dean said that the scent of a soul-mate would seep into your soul… so much you wouldn’t be able to exist without it… Sound familiar?

Fuck, Dean. You met your _soul-mate_.”

“Fucking terrific.” The sound was little more than a grunt, although Sam could hear the fresh batch of tears threatening behind it. “I _still_ should have managed to resist it… she brought me back _here_ once we’d… She should have just left me there, in that world with him. By doing this… I mean by succumbing to Samuel’s charms… I’ve damned him _and_ myself, and he ain’t going to know his own kid…

Dad would be so ashamed of me…”

“ _Screw_ dad!” That was it: the younger man had had enough. With every other word he was slightly shaking his brother’s body, still wrapped up tight as it was in both the covers of the bed _and_ Sam’s arms, for emphasis. “He never thought _anything_ you ever did was any good! _Nor_ what I did, for that matter! All that mattered was his revenge… which I understand… _now_ … but not at the cost of _us_.

It should _never_ have been at the cost of _us_.

And he certainly wouldn’t have understood _this_ … but _I_ do!

_I_ understand, Dean. You… you’ve changed… somehow… when you were in that world. _Because_ of that world. You’re not quite human any more, but you’re also not… _super_ human… _or_ just a perfect little soldier _despite_ you’ve been brought up to believe. You’re only _human_ … well,” he corrected himself hastily. “You’re _not_ … but that’s what I’m trying to _say_. You’re not this… untouchable, unimpeachable, soulless _thing_ that you think you are. You never _have_ been.

You’re a living, breathing, feeling, emotional, _normal_ wonderful being, Dean, who _deserves_ love. _Believe_ me, you do! And if that’s with a man… well, then, I always expected it to be Castiel anyway, but I don’t care as long as you’re happy: man or woman, it doesn’t matter to me at all and it never _has_.

But this is even more than that… you found your _soul-mate_ , and of _course_ you couldn’t have stopped yourself. This is the one being in the entire universe that has supposedly been created to be your perfect match. It would have been like standing in front of a tidal wave with your hands up trying to stop it and not expecting to get wet, or face down a typhoon without getting a single hair blown out of place!

An irresistible force… that’s how your look-alike described it. A marriage destroyer…

Or in _tha_ t world’s case… a _mating_ destroyer.

So. If that’s what you’re worried about: that you couldn’t resist being what you now _are_... If that’s why you ran from the Bunker… then you don’t need to be…

Just come home.”

There was a long silence in the darkened room. Sam pressed his lips against the older man’s short (ish) hair and told himself that it wasn’t a kiss… na-hah, no way, not a kiss. Then:

“Are you going to kill me?”

There was an even longer silence. Sam couldn’t quite believe his ears: had Dean really just asked that? Had he _really_ just _asked_ that? “No! _No_ , I’m not going to kill you! Why the hell would you ask that? Dean? Why would you _ask_ that?”

“You said it: I’m not human anymore. I’m just a monster now, Sammy...”

The younger man felt that his heart was going to stop from horror.

“… And that’s what we do. That’s what we’ve _always_ done.”

The younger Winchester sighed. And hugged his older brother impossibly closer as if he could merge them both into one body by sheer willpower and the strength of his hold.

And he _definitely_ kissed the top of Dean’s head.

“Did _you_ kill _me_ when dad told you to? When you realised that I had a few drops of demon blood in me? When I became ad…addi…addicted to demon blood enough to be tricked into letting the fucking devil loose…

When I fucking _let_ Lucifer loose and nearly condemned the world to be destroyed by the Apocalypse… did you kill me?”

“Don’t be stupid! That’s different!” Dean was trying to wriggle loose.

“ _How_ is that different!?” Sam held on tight. “Apart from the drops of demon blood, I _chose_ to do what I did! I chose to believe that fucking black-eyed little bitch and ignored… well, _everyone_ else but especially you! _You didn’t!_ You didn’t _choose_ to be changed into…” He forced himself to pause and try to make his voice sound calmer. “You didn’t choose to be… bitten… or scratched… or whatever happened in that world, Dean. And whatever it is you _are_ now, you are _not_ a monster.

And even if you _were_ , I wouldn’t kill you!

Because you’re my brother. You will _always_ be my brother.

And I will always love you no matter what.”

There was another silence: this time, a slightly stunned one from Dean’s side of the bed and a patiently waiting one from Sam.

“What… about… what you said… chaining me in the dungeon…?”

“Oh Dean.” Yes, Sam remembered what he had said. His own words had replayed in his head most nights since he had realised that the older man most probably had heard them… that they would probably been the _last_ words that he had heard his younger brother say in the Bunker before he had fled it. “I _never_ would. Well, not unless I had no choice. Not unless you became dangerous to yourself… or it was the only way to keep you from doing something monumentally stupid…

That was just words. Cas and I were just talking, and…”

“Cas kissed me. He _kissed_ me, Sam.”

“I know. I know he did. And I know what you heard… and I know what you think. But you’re safe with us, Dean. So was the _other_ Dean. It just all got… very complicated. But… you’re safe with us: you don’t _ever_ need to worry that…

Please come home. I just need you to come home.”

“I thought the Bunker _wasn’t_ home.” The older man’s voice contained a slight sulk: Sam could immediately visualise the pout that would be accompanying it even in the darkness of the room and had to resist the urge to smirk.

“ _You’re_ my home, _jerk_. You always _have_ been: it just took me a long time to realise that. If you don’t want to come back to the Bunker, then okay. And if you don’t want to see Cas, then I’ll make sure he stays away from you. But wherever you are, is where I going to be, and if that’s here… then that’s okay as well, Dean. As long as we’re together then I don’t _care_.”

He stared across and slightly down defiantly at his brother, who he had by now released from his arms and the tight covers just enough to allow Dean to straighten up enough on the bed to be able to stare directly back at him with red-rimmed eyes... but to the younger man’s relief, there was now a slight twinkle in them that he had just missed _soooo_ much… “I forgot how bossy you can get, Sammy. Makes me go all tingly…”

“Shaddup.” Despite himself Sam blushed. And slurpingly kissed the top of his brother’s head but this time simply for the sole little-brotherly reason of really annoying the other man.

Which to his gratification, it immediately succeeded in doing.

Dean wriggled enough to be able to finally pull completely free of his embrace without any seemingly malice other than an exaggerated ‘blech’ sound, but to Sam’s relief then his brother remained simply laying on the bed beside him: “Chick-flick moment over, bitch?”

The younger man smiled and also turned to lie on his back side-by-side and close enough to punch at Dean’s arm with his own. “Chick-flick over. Come home.”

“Sam? Did you find him?”

Both men startled at the hissed whisper that hadn’t come from either from them. And reacted immediately: Sam leaping instantly to his feet as he recognised the voice, ready to tackle his brother who he just _knew_ would be doing the same thing while once again going for the knife under his pillow…

Which indeed Dean was.

“Dean! It’s _Jody!_ ”

His brother paused even as he was stepping forward to greet the perceived threat, raised blade in hand… “Jody? You told _Jody!_ ”

Sam couldn’t help his smirk at the tone of aghast _panic_ in the older man’s voice.

“And me! Hey, Dean!”

Claire was also bursting through the door into the darkened room, feeling for the wall switch as she did and all but blinding both brothers momentarily as the main light flickered on, the older man especially, “Son of a bitch!”

“What? Oh my god, it’s true!” And the young blonde was hurrying to hug Dean, flinging her arms around his neck in such an enthusiastic manner as to nearly knock him over, but then almost immediately she was pulling away and stepping back enough to be able to gently rest her fingers against his chest and upper abdomen…

… where Sam and Jody’s eyes had also immediately been irresistibly drawn to now they could see fully in the newly brightened room.

For Dean now had a bump where he had _never_ had a bump before.

He had been sleeping in a t-shirt and sweatpants. It was a simple outfit that left him nowhere to hide his new shape… or the slightly awkward way he was standing with the tiniest of winces in his movements. To Sam’s untrained eye, his brother looked to be carrying the baby higher than a woman usually did: the swelling that was caused by its position seemed to start just below his ribcage to gently disturb into what was still only a fairly small bulge even though the birth, by the younger Winchester’s reckoning, had to be only approximately two months away.

It went through Sam’s mind as well that there was another distinctive difference about Dean from how he had been before he had been taken by that world: in the light of the room now, he could tell that the other’s nostrils were in as much motion as his look-alike’s had been, twitching unobtrusively but constantly with deep inhalations, using them as a new major sense to map the world and individuals around him.

Even as Dean stared across at him, with a slight frown between his eyebrows that the younger man couldn’t help but wonder about, he knew that he was seeing a slightly newer version of the older man.

And it flashed across Sam’s mind suddenly that he had never seen his big brother look so beautiful.

He was also hit by the sudden realisation that he was jealous of the young blonde who was standing so close to Dean as to be able to touch him… and a sudden shame that he felt like that: he was going to have to get _that_ reaction very much under control…

Then the young man’s attention was being caught by something else… a movement beneath Dean’s tight-fitting t-shirt that screamed either alien parasite ready to erupt from the chest cavity, or something else not quite so sinister but equally jaw-dropping, as was substantiated by Claire’s sudden excited _squeal_ : “Oh my _God_ , is that…?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled despite himself. “She’s stretching.”

“Let’s have a feel, boy.” “We’re having a girl?”

And the proud mummy-daddy to be found himself surrounded by his brother and his friends suddenly, all gently touching his abdomen in the hopes of feeling the baby’s movements again… and to Dean’s disbelief, he sensed each of their genuine excitement and unquestioning concern for him. The astonishment of that realisation caused him to nearly stutter a little: “Yeah, that’s… that’s what the ultrasound last week showed. And… and… that’s what I felt from the start as well… I kn..know that sounds stupid…”

“Parental instincts, boy: I’m so _proud_ of you!” And Jody was throwing her arms tightly around Dean with an almost maternal mixture of emotional euphoria and tearful relief. “It’s gonna be okay: you’re not alone in this… you never have been. You’ve got _us!_ You always have had…

Why don’tcha ever just _remember_ that, ya big _lug!_ ” She pulled away enough to be able to punch the older Winchester on the arm with a sharp blow hard enough to make Dean wince and rub at the spot before he was enveloped in another even tighter hug. “Have you any idea of how _worried_ we’ve been?!”

“Dean?”

They all turned at the sound of the deep voice. Castiel stood in the doorway of the room along with an elderly man who may have had many wrinkles, more grey hairs than black, twinkling dark brown eyes and a slightly oversized nose for his face… not to mention scarlet-red shiny-silk pyjamas clashing with fluffy moccasin-style slippers… but who still gave off a genuine air of distinction and authority. “I figured that Our Lady let the rest of them get in here anyway…” he shrugged, “so I scratched through the sigils…”

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey Cas. Shit, I’d forgotten about those damned wings…”

“Wings? You can see his wings?” Jody stared at the older Winchester and then the angel in surprise. As did Claire.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled. “It was what brought it home to me immediately that I wasn’t… _me_ … anymore. I could see Cas’s wings. I _can_ , I mean.”

Sam hadn’t realised that he had instinctively put himself between the two of them until Dean shook off his surprise about seeing the shimmering feathered appendages again and reached out to touch his arm. “Dude? You okay?”

The younger Winchester shook his irrationality off. “Sorry. You and I and Cas have a lot to talk about what happened when you returned. I just… didn’t want the moment to be spoilt…”

This was with a pointed look at the angel, who tried to resist the urge to tilt his head as he worked out the meaning behind the pointed words: “Of course, I…”

“What’s going on?” Claire hadn’t missed the exchange. Neither had Jody.

But it was Dean who replied. “We had a major misunderstanding when I got back from… where-ever it was… like… _major_. But as Sammy said, we just need to talk it through.”

The younger Winchester barely contained his sigh of relief: even after everything that had happened, Dean’s first instinct would always be to look after _him_ and keep his secret.

In fact, Dean would keep his and _Castiel’s_ secret…

… Sam couldn’t help but smirk inside himself though… Dean would keep their secret even if it meant him actually having to talk later…

_Dean!_

_Talking!_

Although… thinking about it… his big brother would probably want _this_ particular secret kept more than any other…

He wouldn’t want _anyone_ to know that both Sam and Cas had had extremely often, and exceedingly enthusiastic, sexual relations with his look-alike from another dimension…

…and… well… actually… neither would _they_ …

He and Cas definitely didn’t want _anyone_ to know what they had done with the other Dean…

… Yeah… the three of them certainly had a _lot_ to discuss.

When they all got back to the Bunker, that is…

But first he had to convince his brother to come…

… _and_ it might well be worth changing the present subject before Jody or Claire… or even worse, _both_ … felt it necessary to pursue it…

“Dean? Who is this?” Sam indicated the red satiny-clad man. “Did he bring you here?”

The distinguished, if somewhat nattily dressed older man smiled, his wrinkles lifting into well-worn crow’s feet of laughter lines: “Nah, boy. Our Lady led him to us. Although I must admit I was surprised that Pah is actually a female: I have begun sharing the correct retelling of our legends. But we are honoured to have been chosen.”

“Our Lady?” Jody had watched her boy’s reaction to the arrival of his brother and the angel, and was beginning to wonder just how much she _wasn’t_ going to like what she was definitely determined now to find out! “The who now?”

“What do you mean ‘led’?” Sam began at the same time. “How did you get _here_ from the bunker? It’s over 600 miles!”

“Our Lady Moon brought me here.” Dean nodded and began to explain: “She’s the goddess that did all this, took me to that… world, dimension… whatever the hell it is. I don’t know why or what she wanted… what she _still_ wants… or why she did this…”

He hesitated momentarily, then addressed his younger brother directly. “I know she’s not finished with me, Sam. _This_ isn’t finished. Hell,” he sighed, “it’s only just beginning, what with this… me becoming _this_ and having a baby and everything.

I just wish she’d let me stay there in that world and not have to come back here. But… somehow … it’s going to be okay. It will. Eventually. I’ve just got to… hold on. I know this sounds stupid, but…

You know how y _ou_ reckon you never lost faith in God no matter what, Sammy… well, even after everything… Lucifer and… all that.

Well, I’ve… I _felt_ that she was there with me. All the way through…well…. everything that happened in that… place, with the constant threat of violence and the sexual harassments and the eventual attack on the house and the children... I felt… I _knew,_ Sammy… that I wasn’t on my own. I knew there was something else with me…

And when I got back here to this world… and the way everything happened in that warehouse… it all just got so messed-up, but I ran out of the Bunker… I _had_ to get out of that Bunker… and I took a deep breath and I _knew_.

I _knew_ she’s not done with me.

I’ve just got to trust her. So I waited, and she sent my beautiful big cat as a guide and all I had to was follow… It took a couple of days of walking just about continually and two completely ruined boots but I ended up at Benjamin here’s door. I’m _safe_ here with him.”

“You’re safe with _us!_ At the _Bunker!_ ” Sam couldn’t help the sharpness of his tone: not only had he decided instantly that he didn’t like the sound of this ‘Benjamin’, but also he didn’t like the way his brother was talking. It had been bad enough the other Dean gushing excitedly and continually about a goddess, but for his own actual brother to _also_ do so? And in this eerie…. _accepting_ … way?

 _Hell_ , no.

In his mind he was already running through every piece of information he could ever remember about brain washing and other conditioning techniques… and how to break them. This ‘Lady’ might be a goddess but that didn’t also mean that she wasn’t a complete _Bitch_ that Sam was going to _kill_ for doing this to his Dean the very first chance he got.

No, the moment he could get his brother back safely to the Bunker, they were going to discuss what this moon god thing actually was and how it wasn’t wanted… and the sooner he could get Dean there, the better.

“He’s safe here because he’s with child.” The elderly man, Benjamin’s, voice was deep and calm, seemingly completely unperturbed at the arrivals in the middle of the night. “The first of their kind in this world for a very long time. He has been chosen by Our Lady Pah… and I am honoured that she has chosen _me_ to serve her.

I have been the shaman on this reservation for over forty years. Generations of our family have lived here: passing on the wisdom; handing down the skills; bequeathing the superstitions and the rituals.

 _She_ brought him to us, and he is _safe_ here. He is not seen as a freak, as the rest of the world will judge him to be. I will see him safely through the birth. And we have already arranged the paperwork so the child will be accepted in the community outside our boundaries… one of our brethren is a respected doctor with a practice in the local town and my daughter’s name will be on the birth certificate as the mother. _Everything_ has been prepared for Dean and his baby: they are officially Pawnee family now.”

“ _No_.” That was it, Sam had had enough. He was physically reaching to pull the older Winchester behind him even as he spoke, causing Dean to stumble a little. Sam caught him around the waist with his arms immediately in support and held on tight: “That’s the one thing that will _never_ be. Dean is _my_ brother. That child is _my_ niece. I am the only family that he will _ever_ need. And I will protect them _both_ with my life. I _swear_ that.”

He felt his brother’s surprise through the arm he had around him and the wide green eyes as they blinked in his direction.

“As do I.” Castiel was across from the doorway and standing beside the tall young man, deliberately putting himself between the human he loved so much and the stolidly unexcitable Benjamin in the next instant. “I am so sorry, Dean. I did not think through my actions when you returned from that world, and of _course_ you were bewildered. I forgot that you were not… that… other version of you that I… _we_ …”

“There’s time to talk about that later.” Sam interrupted. “Once we’re back at the Bunker. Let’s get going, Dean.”

“You are not listening!” Benjamin frowned. “Your brother is better off here, at least until the baby arrives. That is why Our Lady brought him here…”

“So you can play at being ‘Grand-daddy’?” Sam spat at him. “How’s your daughter _really_ feeling about being forced to lie on a birth certificate? Or is she suddenly going to demand ‘maternal rights’? Are you going to try and claim my brother’s child?” he suddenly wondered and his rage racked up a notch. “Because if _that’s_ your plan, then I’m telling you _now_ that…”

“Sammy…” his older but smaller brother was looking up at him. “You’re getting this wrong.”

“My daughter died over two decades ago.” The elderly man’s tone was steady, but gave away his sadness even after so many years. “We buried her beneath the oldest cedar in our reservation and… just never got around to registering her death. But she would have been honoured to serve the Lady…

That’s why she chose for the nahurac to lead Dean here…”

“The nahurac?” Jody didn’t understand a word of _anything_ at the moment, but she was right there beside Sam and Castiel: if Dean needed her help then she wasn’t going to be anywhere else but between him and danger.

Neither was Claire. The beautiful young blonde was already reaching for one of her knives at the mention of a supernatural being: “What the hell’s a nahurac?”

“If you’ll just all give me a chance, then I’ll tell you.” Dean was getting exasperated: not only were they all standing guard around him which he did not need at _all_ , _and_ Sam still had a tight protective hold around him and was standing _far_ too close at the moment, but also… his back was starting to hurt and he could have done with being able to rest his slightly swollen ankles.

Not to mention that now he was awake, he really, _really_ desperately needed to piss.

“The nahurac is the spirit animal I just told you about: the one that led me here. She was sent by Our Lady and she’s beautiful… Looks like a big cat…”

“With perfect rosette markings and eyes nearly as green as yours?” This time Castiel couldn’t help but tilt his head with his interest. “Is it the same one that the other Dean was protected by as well?”

Dean was surprised as he hadn’t known any of what have happened, but he seized on the words: “ _Exactly_. _Protect_ being the operative word. She brought me here so that Benjamin could arrange everything that needs to be arranged. And he’s talked me through what’s…” the swallow that was almost a gulp gave away his actual anxiousness despite the pretended calm “…what’s to come. I’ve gotta stay _here_. At least until she’s born.”

“No, you _don’t_.” And Sam was pleading with him, trying to use his eyes to their most perfected effect. “Come home with me. You’ll be safe back at the Bunker: you _know_ you will.

And when it’s time for… well, you know… I’ll be right there with you.” The young man glanced across at the angel, who nodded immediately. “ _We’ll_ be right there with you. Castiel can help you… he can whammy her right out of you if necessary…”

The sudden silence in the room… and the disgusted looks in his direction from both women, his brother, the shaman _and_ the angel told Sam that he had perhaps gone too far.

Hastily he back-tracked. “Okaaaay. What I meant was… I’m going to be right there with you. All the way. Right up to when she’s born… and after.

I _want_ to be there for you, Dean. You’re my brother and my entire family. But, if you’re happier here, then we’ll stay. Both of us. Together. Here. _Please_. And if you do need extra help when you… I mean… well then, Castiel’s going to be there as well and he’ll be useful, Dean. You _know_ he will.

If you need it…

Whatever you want to do, I promise I’ll be right there beside you… for whatever you need.

I always _will_ be.”

The puppy eyes were now being used with full force, and completely focused on his brother. Who, despite himself, couldn’t help but avert his gaze while beginning to ruefully rub at the back of his neck with one hand: “I don’t know, Sammy. I… I…”

“It would only be natural to be anxious about the birth, Dean.” Castiel had always understood his friend. “Even women preparing for their first child must find the… thought of the experience to come daunting. It is understandable to us all that you are somewhat… apprehensive. And as Sam has said: I will be useful to help you through the unbelievable pain that must surely ensue during the multitude of hours possibly days that it will take to push the baby out of your body through your….”

“Cas!” “Castiel! That’s enough!” “Let’s just stop that there, shall we?” Jody’s calm voice cut through the slightly frantic efforts of Sam and Claire to stop the angel from talking. “It’ll be fine, Dean. Don’t let him worry ya. You just have to concentrate on finally being able to hold that baby… _your_ baby… in your arms when it’s done and everything else gets immediately forgotten, _believe_ me.”

Dean blinked gratefully at her: “Thanks, Sheriff. I’m… actually quite happy _not_ thinking about… that bit at the moment. But… erm… I appreciate what you said… and I appreciate all of you… being here… It means…

I mean…

What d’ya think?”

Much to Sam’s disgust, this last was addressed to the solemn Benjamin.

Who shrugged his gloriously-clad shoulders in response: “I’ve taught you everything I feel you need to know,” he considered, “and we have everything in place for the birth, and _I’ll_ be there to see you safely through that, no _argument_.” The stern tone put behind these words left all the newcomers in no doubt that this was something not up for discussion. “It’s just a matter of waiting now. _She_ wouldn’t have let them in this room if she felt there was a threat… but… the only important thing is that you are kept as comfortable and _calm_ as possible… stress is _not_ good for you: your blood pressure tends to rise at the slightest perceived anxiety and you do seem to be increasingly worried about what is to come despite my assurances of how natural the process is…”

“He _will_ be comfortable!” Sam saw his best chance and took it. “ _And_ calm. More than here in this ratty old cabin in this old bed! He’ll be in his _own_ room, in his _own_ home… _our_ home… with his own things around him… and we’ll be there to look after him!

Come home, Dean! _Please!_ ”

The younger Winchester worked his eyes like he had never purposely used them before, feeling momentarily guilty as he did… then jubilant as he saw his brother’s body sag a little…

And absolutely euphoric as Dean finally gave a big sigh of near defeat.

“You sure, Sammy? I mean… I know we talked just now and what you said... but… and I don’t know what’s coming or how we’ll manage or…

Man… I’m just a little… I don’t…” The older brother was hesitating… ashamed to admit that he was more than a little _terrified_ of the thought of what was going to have to happen..

“It’s okay, Dean.” And Sam was changing his stance to be able to put one long arm around his brother’s shoulders in support: his other hand going naturally to support the bump while hoping to feel another slight movement beneath the skin. “It’s _going_ to be okay. I’ll be right there with you: I’m in this for the long run. Just come home back to the Bunker. Castiel can _fetch_ Benjamin when it’s time,” he realised suddenly, “If anything were to suddenly happen, I mean.” the angel instantly nodded in agreement and started to open his mouth but wasn’t given the chance to interrupt, “or we can get you back here when it’s nearer the time… if this is where you feel you should be, I’ll make sure you’re here. I really _will_ …”

Sam paused… “Just come back to the Bunker. _Please_.

It’s just not _home_ without you there.”

The moment seemed to hang in the air just as his last words did…

And then Dean was looking up at his younger brother, who still had his arm around him, and meeting his eyes.

Looking straight into them.

Sam immediately dropped the puppy-dogs to instead stare directly back into the older man’s green irises, and allow Dean to see the sincerity in his own: the truth behind his words…

His brother’s eyebrows furrowed together as if still slightly perplexed at something when he looked at the younger man… but then he inhaled again, and slowly nodded: “Okay, Sammy. I must admit I’ve missed my memory-foam…

… _and_ you. Just a little bit.”

Sam’s dimples turned into a full-on grin of relief: “Missed you too, jerk.”

Dean snorted. “Bitch. ‘Kay… Okay, Sammy. If you’re sure…”

His younger brother hugged him, almost delirious with sudden relief, and wishing they could already be back at the Bunker right then and there: “C’mon then, Dean.

Let’s get going home.”


	4. Chapter Four

It was well into the evening by the time they all finally arrived at the Bunker. Sam’s hopes of it being a straight and _immediate_ drive back once he had found Dean… had proved that he really had _not_ thought things through…

Dean had fled the Bunker with just the clothes on his back. And for most of his life he had only ever lived out of one bag anyway… so… Sam for some reason expected his brother, if he had _anything_ , to _still_ have only one bag of belongings… and in his naivety he had expected it to be already packed and ready to go as had been their custom for just about all of _both_ their lives…

What a fucking moronic imbecilic expectation _that_ was!?

And what a fucking moronic imbecile _he_ had been!?

He had to do better. _Dean_ needed him to do better.

His _niece_ needed him to do better.

Fucking hell! He was going to be an _uncle!_

All these thoughts were going through Sam’s head while he watched the elderly Benjamin, having hastily dressed into comfortable faded denims and a loose-fitting over-shirt yet _still_ was wearing the fluffy slippers, run around his cabin gathering stuff that Dean would need… for both before the birth and after it, and what the baby would need… and what the native American _himself_ would need if Castiel had to fetch him to the Bunker to assist with the birth…

There were packets of homemade herbal teas (much to Sam’s incredulity), mainly ginger and mint to help with Dean’s apparently constant nausea but other flavours as well, and homemade honey and herbal remedies and salves to cover every other range of ailments from indigestion to the reduction of stretch lines. Dean _did_ now have a bag’s worth of clothing that once packed up included everything from basic pre-pregnancy denims to loose and stretchy sweat pants, but it paled into insignificance with the _two_ bags that the baby had already… “My people are excited about meeting her: more gifts arrive every day”… and there was a separate bag of well-worn and well-read ancient books and protective totems that Sam was already salivating about getting his hands on in the days to come… and more besides.

Plus, Benjamin had insisted on cooking them all a breakfast of hot buttered wholemeal toast and scrambled eggs, the enjoyment of which had been marred by Dean’s complexion becoming suddenly pale and him having to run to the bathroom.

“He still getting that?” Jody had asked with concern.

“All the way through,” Benjamin had responded. “And it’s not confined to the mornings: _any_ thing, especially new scents, can set him off. It‘s been a worry making sure he and the little she have been getting enough nutrients. Oh! That reminds me…” And he was up on his feet again, packing up something else that he wanted to make sure travelled home with the pregnant mummy-daddy to be…

“It’s a damned good thing I brought my truck.” The sheriff muttered to everyone within earshot.

But finally they were ready to be on their way.

And it was _totally_ worth it when Dean’s eyes alighted on the Impala: “My _Baby!_ ”

Sam didn’t know which made him grin more, his brother’s obvious delight or the aghast look on Benjamin’s face. Although he was still a little upset that _he_ hadn’t received such a seemingly genuine reaction to being seen again. And Dean’s expression still seemed to falter a little every time he looked his little brother’s way...

“You wanna drive?” He held the keys out to Dean and relished in the excitement in his eyes, but then the older man was shaking his head.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Seriously?”

Dean sighed, “Yeah.” The young man frowned and waited but his brother didn’t elaborate. Instead: “We going or what?”

“Here.” Benjamin was handing Dean a large, hand woven, and incredibly soft blanket decorated around three edges with a long beautifully beaded fringe. “I was saving this for when our little girl arrives, but you might have use of it before.”

“Thanks, man. For _everything._ ”

And Dean was giving him a large and heartfelt hug, which was returned just as intensely by the elderly man. “I _will_ see you in a few weeks, guaranteed: our Lady Pa will ensure I am there. Count on it!”

Dean grinned at him: “You betcha!”

And _finally_ , to Sam’s tremendous relief, they were on their way.

It didn’t feel right, him driving the Impala with his older brother riding shotgun. Especially when said big brother actually turned down the music after a few moments: “Sorry, do ya mind? It’s making my head thump a bit.”

“No, definitely not. You okay?”

“Just not been sleeping very well, is all.” Dean muttered.

Sam glanced into the rear view mirror and exchanged concerned looks with Castiel, who was sitting in the back seat. “Is there anything we can do?”

“Nah. A good night’s sleep back on my memory foam will work wonders.” He rubbed almost nonchalantly at the bulge in his chest that had no place on a man’s body. “If this little munchkin will only settle and _let_ me sleep.”

“She’s active a lot then?” Sam couldn’t help himself, he wanted to know every detail: he had missed _far_ too much already.

“Yeah. Especially at night. I thought I was part were-creature now, but perhaps there’s some vampire in her.”

Despite himself, Sam laughed. But he couldn’t help but say, “No matter _what_ you are now, you’re always going to be my brother. Don’t you ever think different!”

“Thanks, Sam.” And Dean was turning away to stare steadily out of the window…

The younger man smiled: he knew his brother well enough to know that Dean was simply trying to hide his emotions. He didn’t need to have enhanced senses for _that_. He reached out to bump his fist against the older man’s arm, but there was no need for words…

Not between the Winchester boys.

They drove on in silence for a good hour or so, then Sam noticed that Dean was shifting uncomfortably in the seat beside him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” But he kept on shuffling. Just little movements at a time. As if he was in discomfort and trying desperately to find a position to sit that didn’t cause pain.

“Is it your back? Is the seat hurting it?”

“It’s fine.”

That was it: Sam saw a rest stop and pulled off the highway.

“What are you doing?”

Jody’s truck and Claire’s van followed them in and parked up each side of the Impala. “What’s going on?” The sheriff called across from her vehicle. “Restroom break?”

“No, it’s Dean’s back. He’s struggling in the front seat.”

“I’m _fine_.”

“What can we do?” Jody was coming across to talk to Sam through the driver’s window.

“He’s going to have to travel in the back instead: he can lie down there.”

“I _said_ , I’m _fine_.”

“The Impala’s rear seat isn’t going to be any better: he won’t be able to lie out properly.” Claire was also now out of her van and standing beside the passenger’s side. “I’ve a bed in the back with a comfortable mattress. He’s welcome to travel with me: it’ll be more comfortable for him.”

That distracted Dean from his growing annoyance at least. “A bed in your _van?_ Way to go _Claire!_ “

The young blonde couldn’t help herself from blushing: “Nooo! No.” But she couldn’t help but smile back at his smirk. “It’s comfortable though. And we’ve still got a way to go…?”

She looked down through the open window at Dean with a pleading look in her eyes. He sighed at her: “You’ve been learning that from Sam. _And_ Castiel. Yeah… okay, actually that sounds good…

Sammy, I’m gonna be traveling with Claire for a while.” He started to open his door…

“We both are.” And the younger Winchester was following him out of the Impala, as was the angel. “Cas, can you drive this one home?”

“Of course, Sam. I…”

“Dean, get in the van quick before someone sees you! Go on!” And Sam was all but pushing his brother up the step into the rear of the vehicle. “Oh! Cas, pass me that blanket!”

“Here. Sam, Benjamin gave me a list so I will go and…” But Castiel’s words were cut off by the blanket being hastily handed through the van door and it being firmly shut before the young man was himself moving to get into the front beside the beautiful blonde.

The convoy moved on.

Claire hadn’t lied. She had had the rear of her van converted enough that she could live in it if necessary: there was a small freezer box, a two-ring cooker, and a comfortable if somewhat small bed with the pillow end situated just behind the front driver’s seat. Plus a lot of storage for weapons and ammunition of course.

“You rest up, Dean.” She called back as she turned the ignition on. “You look like you haven’t had too much sleep lately and we all woke you up early this morning. We’ll stay quiet in the front.”

The green eyes met hers in the rear view mirror as the man looked around. Claire felt a pang inside her: Dean really _did_ look exhausted. He had hardly managed to eat anything since they had been with him, and that Benjamin had said that he was still struggling with severe nausea at all hours of the day…

She was relieved when the pregnant man simply nodded, the lids on his tired eyes already beginning to droop, and moved to lay out flat as best he could on the bed.

Claire glanced across at Sam, who was also watching his brother with an expression on his face that was a strange mixture of concern and tenderness… and all consuming love. She nodded to herself and reached for her cell phone…

But she would wait and make sure Dean had definitely fallen asleep first…

They drove on in silence for a while until all was quiet from the rear of the van…

Then…

“Are you going to tell me the truth now, Sam?”

“Pardon…?”

“What’s really going on between you and Dean. The truth.”

There was a pause. Sam didn’t know what say. Claire shrugged and continued:

“Only… You know what used to get me about Castiel? Besides the fact that he took possession of my dad, that is?”

Sam waited, unsure whether it was a rhetorical question or not, but the blonde continued talking without seeming to care if she got a response or not. “It was the way he looks at Dean. Which was the same way as ‘Jimmy’ used to look at my _mother_. I used to resent it, Sam. He took my father and whilst in his body, he went and fell in love with a man of all things! I used to hate Castiel for that. It seemed like… the worst betrayal, you know?

And then I got to know Dean, and I got to know Castiel… see him as _him_ and not as my dad… and one day I realised that…

I wanted them both happy.

I wanted them both _happy_ , Sam.

 _If_ Dean felt the same way, which I think perhaps he…”

There was another short pause in the van… which to Sam felt like an eternity…

“What I _didn’t_ expect,” Claire finally continued, “is to ever see _you_ looking at Dean in the same way…”

“I…”

“You said _your_ duplicate in that dimension was the other Dean’s _mate_. And that that version of him was totally the opposite of our Dean: he was nervous and afraid of everything.

And it’s already obvious what you mean about the scenting: Dean does it without realising and he actually seems to relax when he’s around _you_. Your scent calms him down, even when he was getting stressed earlier by all that Benjamin’s fussing. Your _touch_ definitely soothes him: when you took his bag and just kept hold of his arm to see him out to the Impala it helped him, he took stability from you just being there…

And you _are_ touching him, Sam. Quite noticeably in fact…

It would have been only _natural_ for him, the other Dean I mean, to turn to you for comfort… physically, mentally, for just assurance in general… while he was stuck here alone and terrified. But what I didn’t expect… and what I think you _did_ … is that you _gave_ that comfort to the other Dean… And gave it willingly.”

She glanced across at him. “ _I’m_ guessing _very_ willingly _._ ”

“Claire, I…”

“Look, Sam. Whatever happened with the other Dean, this one doesn’t need it. Is that what got him so upset? When he returned…?”

“Look, I…”

“Was it just you? Or was it Cas as well…?”

“Claire…” Sam wasn’t sure if his complexion was paling or reddening at her unbelievable intuition: probably both. At any other time he would have been extremely impressed and very proud at her insight…

Not this time, however.

He had paused too long.

“Shit, it was Cas as well. No _wonder_ Dean was so upset at you…

No wonder he ran.”

There was total silence between them with the exception of the slightly rattley-sounding throb of the engine of the van. Sam stared blankly out of the passenger window: for the first time in a long, long time he was at a loss of what to do next. He owed Claire an explanation. He _knew_ he owed the young blonde an explanation. But for the life of him… he couldn’t think what to say…

… The only thing he _could_ do in fact was tell the truth.

“I didn’t… Claire. I know what you’re thinking: how could I have…? I _love_ Dean: I’ll _always_ love him. With all my heart. He’s my _brother_.”

He sighed. “But I never realised, Claire…not until he, or the being that was his exact double, was in my arms and looking up at me, all wide scared green eyes and open lips and shaking from fear and just _needing_ … I never realised how much I’ve _wanted_ him. My own _brother!_ How much I’ve _always_ wanted him…

Not until it was offered by his gentle, frightened little look-alike…

And you’re right, I _couldn’t_ resist. And then I wanted _more_ … I wanted _everything_.” Sam sighed, a deep mournful sigh full of shame:

“Dean must hate me _so_ much right now.”

There was another long silence in the van.

“I’ll never hate you, Sam.” Both Sam and the blonde were startled by the sleepy deep voice from behind them. “I love you. You _know_ I do: I always will. And as you’ve told me far too many times, I love you far too much for my own damned good. That’s what makes me do such crazy things to keep you safe… and why we always end up fighting about it.

But you’re my little brother and I love you, and I’ll always, _always_ try to protect you even though you resent me every time I do. I will _always_ love you, Sammy. So much.

But I… I’ve never, _ever_ thought of you in that way. I…I just don’t think I can love you like _that_.

I’m sorry.”

“For _fuck’s…!”_

And Sam was twisting his body around in the passenger seat and then somehow forcing his six foot four inch frame up and over the back of it to get through to the rear of the van, knocking Claire forcibly and unusually clumsily in his haste with his legs as he did and nearly causing her to swerve the van dangerously…

“ _Sa-am!_ ”

But the girl was paid no heed as Sam landed somewhat painfully clumsily and in a tangle of limbs on the hard floor space behind the front seats while already reaching for his brother, who was trying to carefully sit himself up on the makeshift bed, wincing from awkwardness at his back as he did and bracing slightly against the movement of the van.

Dean’s momentary discomfort was instantly forgotten as the younger man immediately knelt in front of him and reached to close his large hands gently around each side of his jaw: Sam’s long fingers and thumbs holding firmly either side of his head so that the older man couldn’t have looked away from meeting the other’s eyes straight on even if he’d wanted to. Not that he’d ever denied his younger brother anything anyway…

“You don’t _need_ to be sorry!” Sam tried and failed not to shout. With an effort he controlled himself and spoke in a calmer tone of voice. “ _You_ don’t need to be sorry, Dean. This is… something _I_ have to deal with. And I will, I promise. You won’t ever need to doubt me… _or_ be afraid of what I’ll do. I’ll never let you down again. I’m _never_ going to.

Just… don’t ever leave me again, Dean. I’ve missed you so much and… you’re all I’ve got. _Please_ don’t ever leave me again.

Promise me.”

The older man stared down at him, his eyebrows raised so high they were almost meeting his even now still military-short hair.

“ _Promise_ me!” Sam begged him. “Nothing has been the same without you! I never realised how much having you there _means_ to me. Half of what happened with the other Dean was because of how much I love you, and it’s not just sexually.

I mean… he was _you_ and he was constantly touchy. I mean _constantly!_ He got into my bed on the first night and… the next morning… well, I should have had more control. You’ve been worried about what I think about _you_ not being able to resist when you met your _soul_ mate for god’s sake: well, _I_ should have been able to stop myself _far_ more, so stop beating yourself up…

But I will from now on, Dean. I swear I will. If you’re not interested, then…

You can trust me, Dean. You really can. I’m gonna prove it to you. You can _trust_ me.

The one good thing about what’s happened since… you disappeared… is that, although _he_ was here, I missed _you_. I really did! And I realised how much I did… and despite what you… he… was like… and how much I… had always wanted it… always wanted _you_ …

I _missed_ you. Even when your look-alike was there… I missed _you_ , Dean.

I have done like _hell_ these last few months. I missed your lousy singing and your fantastic cooking and your over-protectiveness… which I _get_ now, by the way: it’s about the only thing dad _ever_ said to you, ‘take care of Sammy, Dean’, apart from ‘what are you standing there like a useless good-for-nothing for? Get all them weapons cleaned, boy’ or ‘what are you, a goddam _girl?_ Fifty more press ups and do them _right_ this time!’… and I miss your annoying laugh. Which you don’t do anywhere _near_ enough of anymore and I never realised… I never _realised_.

And I missed your friendship and your companionship, and your insight into situations, and your determination to try and save _everybody_ and your heartache when you can’t because sometimes we just _can’t_ Dean, and your never-failing courage to never give up and keep on going even when it’s all going bad…”

He paused momentarily: “Even when _I’m_ going bad, Dean. You were always there for me: you always have been. And I never tell you how much I appreciate that. How grateful I am. How much I can _never_ repay.

How much I need you.

Please don’t ever leave me again.”

He was still kneeling on the floor of the van as it sped along, holding his brother’s face in his hands through all this monologue… because Dean still hadn’t spoken a word. For a long moment, Sam thought his pleas were being ignored: the silence stretched out above the sound of the engine…

But then: “I didn’t _mean_ to leave you, Sam. I didn’t have a choice. _You_ saw.”

“I know. But don’t ever do it again. Or at least… I’m coming with you. I don’t care how. If this bitch takes you again, then I’m fucking well coming as well!”

“Sammy, I…”

“I _mean_ it, Dean. You reckon she’s not finished with you? Well… whatever she’s intending we’re going to face it _together_. There or here, us Winchesters are going to face it together just like we always have done!”

“But Sam, I…”

“I _know_ how she took you last time: I saw how hurt you _both_ got. But I’m not letting her take you from me again. I mean it, Dean. And you’re damn well not going to just let her! Not without one hell of a fight! And you had _better_ fucking well fight to stay with me because I’m _not letting you go without me!_

 _Never_ again.”

There was another pause, but the remaining slight tension that had been between the brothers since Sam had found the older man earlier that morning had gone. He let his hands loosen their grip, but kept them resting gently on Dean’s shoulders, wanting to keep the physical connection that he had craved for so long, albeit a platonic one.

But his brother was smiling at him: the green eyes shining with suspicious moistness. “Okay, Sammy. Whatever happens, we’re in it together. Somehow.”

“Promise?”

Dean nodded. “Promise.”

The dimples went deep with relief as Sam’s eyes also prickled suspiciously with dampness. “Okay then. Is your back okay?” As the other shifted his position uncomfortably and tried to contain a wince.

Dean grimaced. “Nah,” he admitted. “I wasn’t kidding about really missing my memory foam. That spare bed of Benjamin’s wasn’t up to much, although I didn’t want to upset him and he kept offering me his own mattress but it didn’t seem right to take it: he’s an old man and I could manage…”

“But your back’s bad?” Sam was already moving, twisting to try and sit on the small bed beside his older brother, stumbling a little from the movement of the van as he did but determined to try and soothe Dean’s pain away with his hand.

The other shrugged and adjusted his posture yet again: “I wasn’t thinking this through, Sammy. I _am_ looking forward to getting home. I’m _definitely_ looking forward to my own bed. But I didn’t think about the six hour or so journey to get there… she ain’t happy and neither am I!”

As he was saying that, Dean was rubbing at his bump to try and settle the squirming baby inside. With a yawn he moved to try and stretch his body out a little, regretting the abrupt awakening well before dawn when he had only just really managed to get comfortable enough to _finally_ fall asleep in Benjamin’s lumpy spare room bed, and bumping his arm and head slightly against the hard metal side of the van in the process as Claire smoothly manoeuvred around a bend in the road.

Sam watched his effort with a little guilt: _he_ hadn’t really thought this through either. All that had mattered to him for the last few months was finding his brother, but… somehow… during all the stress of not knowing where he was and the worry about what had happened in that other world and imagining what the hell could have been the _cause_ of the older man’s mysterious pregnancy against all the universal known laws of nature… Sam had failed to grasp one simple fact.

His big brother was _pregnant!_

And was probably suffering from a few of the pleasures that accompanied child expectancy: nausea; heartburn; swollen ankles; back pain…

… Not feeling comfortable in his own body…

… Not sleeping very well.

Sam had already noticed immediately how pale Dean seemed to be… but now he was noticing the constant tiredness behind the green eyes and he could see the uninterrupted exhaustion in the older man’s movements.

That was it. The younger man was reaching across for the dual pillows on the small bed nearly before he had even thought about what he was doing. “Come here.”

Dean stared blankly at him. “What?”

But Sam was already on the move, swinging himself back down from the mattress to the slightly gritty but carpeted floor of the van, taking the pillows with him to set against the back of the front seats before settling himself against them. “Come down here. Trust me.” And he patted between the denim of his long legs as he spread them.

The older man’s eyebrows raised. Sam smiled up at him. “ _Trust_ me.” And he patted the floor of the van again.

Sam hadn’t realised how much the moment had meant to him when Dean simply nodded and moved to sit down with him: the younger man assisting the pregnant man to carefully settle between his legs before reaching for the soft woven blanket that Benjamin had pressed into his brother’s arms just before they had left the cabin in Pawnee.

“Here.” And he was tucking it around Dean, and adjusted his position to make his brother as comfortable as possible as he leant back against the solidness of Sam’s chest. Whether he _himself_ would be comfortable didn’t matter. “This okay?”

Dean wriggled down where he sat a little: Sam bit his lip hard and wilfully forced away his body’s instant reaction to the motion and his brother’s close proximity _praying_ that the other man didn’t become aware of it and freak out. The pregnant man’s hands automatically moved to rest on his bump. Sam took the chance to cover them with his own while tightening his arms to try and give his brother even more support. “Try and get some rest.”

There was another silence.

“This feels weird.” Dean suddenly muttered.

Sam snorted with amusement despite himself: “Are you more comfortable though? You can go back up on the bed if that’s better.”

“Nah, this is okay.” Dean conceded. “Bit chick-flickie, though. Gotta say: it’s like sitting against a radiator, you’re so warm. How are you so hot?”

Sam snorted again. So did the blonde in the front of the van who most definitely _hadn’t_ been listening intently to their whole conversation.

“Hey Claire?” Dean called suddenly. “Once you’ve dropped us at the Bunker, don’t you go anywhere before I’ve had a look at this engine: it sounds like you’ve got a cracked flywheel.”

“I… what?”

“Just take his word for it,” Sam told her. “Dean knows everything there is to about motors. I always hoped he’d make a career out of it somehow. But you’re not looking at _any_ engine until after my niece is born and it’s safe for you to so,” he informed his brother.

“I’ll be fine.” Dean shrugged. “I’ve been doing up Ben’s old jalopy for him: believe me, I didn’t think it was going to even _get_ us to the doc’s the first time…”

“ _I’ll_ fix Claire’s flywheel. You can direct me from the side and take the credit.”

“Like _hell_ I will!”

“Guys!” Claire felt she had to interject, “You’ve only been together again for a few hours! _Chill!_ ”

“Sorry, mom!” Dean grinned.

And Sam _laughed_.

He felt whole for the first time in a long few months _and_ that a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had so _missed_ Dean. He had never before realised how much.

He had meant what he had said: whatever this bitch goddess-thing had in store for his brother… _whatever_ might be coming… well then, he was fucking well going to be right beside him facing it no matter what.

He couldn’t help but hold Dean tighter, using his strong leg muscles as well to press against his brother’s sides to try and give as much physical support and provide as comfortable a place for a pregnant person to recline against as he could. _And_ he resisted the urge to nuzzle his lips against the side of the other’s head as he did, which Sam was definitely going to count as a win.

His heart swelled as he felt the baby push against the side of his arm as his hands covered Dean’s: a continuous motion as if she was curious and trying to feel what was against the other side of her father’s skin. “She likes you,” his brother grunted. “She’s trying to scope you out.”

“I like _her_ as well,” Sam confided. “I’m looking forward to meeting her. Now try and get some rest: you look like you haven’t had a good night’s sleep for a long, long time.”

“I haven’t.” Dean confessed. The warmth from his younger brother’s body and the slight rocking motion of the van as it travelled along was beginning to have an effect. He could feel his eyes beginning to close despite himself…

But he still had to say something: “Sammy?”

“Hmmm?”

“That… erm, beard you’ve been cultivating… is it going to be a permanent thing?”

Despite himself, the young man chuckled. “Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Nah. No, actually I hate it! Makes you look like a hobo! But… I’ll _try_ to get used to it…”

Sam smiled as he felt the older man’s voice slow as he finally admitted defeat and slowly relaxed… until Dean’s head was rolling back against his shoulder and he was shifting his position against his younger brother slightly as sleep completely overtook him for a couple of hours.

Carefully Sam tried to adjust his own posture: he could wish the cushions were that little bit more padded as his back was already aware of the solidness of the seats behind him, but there was no way he was going to move and disturb Dean. He would hold him like this for the rest of his life if he had to. And definitely for the rest of the drive home.

Speaking of which…

Sam stretched his body as far as he could and manage to raise himself up and twist his neck around just enough to be able to see the blonde driving the van in the rear view mirror.

Claire also glanced into it and met his eyes…

… She nodded.

Sam felt relief flood through him

And then Claire was turning away, returning her concentration to the road, while Sam shifted back to his previous position as delicately as he could, hoping that he didn’t disturb the now soundly asleep Dean. “I’ve got your back, big brother.” He whispered to him. “I _always_ will. You can count on it.”

Behind him in the driver’s seat, Claire reached beside her and disconnected the call on her cell phone.

In her truck following them, Jody also switched off her cell and took a deep breath. She had wondered what her girl was doing when Claire had sent a text saying simply ‘don’t speak’. But when the call had come through immediately after, she had obeyed the instruction and answered it without a word.

All she had had to do the last long few minutes was listen…

… somewhat stunned…

… but the Winchester brothers were strong. Even stronger when they were together. And they had come though worse. They had forgiven each other _far_ worse, if everything she had been told by the other Hunters was true…

And they obviously loved each other a great deal. Even more than she had ever realised, or actually _wanted_ to know.

And neither of them would ever give up on the other, no matter what…

Aw, what the hell, her boys would be just fine.

And if they weren’t, then she’d just have to give them both a stern talking to!

The convoy of Claire’s van and Jody’s truck rolled on. To get from Pawnee to the Bunker meant a journey of around six to seven hours… if they could have just kept driving.

But Dean only managed to sleep soundly for a couple of hours before he awoke abruptly and _desperate_ to find a restroom.

“There’s a cassette toilet stashed under the bed.” Claire helpfully informed him. “I bought the van with the express purpose of sleeping in it. Motels every night can get expensive.”

“Yeah, but I can’t… _you_ know.”

“We won’t look.” The blonde grinned. “Sam’s probably seen you use the bathroom before anyway. You were brought up in Hunter lifestyle, weren’t you: I bet there’s _nothing_ about the other you haven’t seen at least _once_.”

“No.” The older Winchester was aghast. “No! Not in here! With you! And… _No!_ Can you stop at the next restroom, please? And… _soon._ ”

“Okay.” She was finding this far too amusing.

Whereas Sam was in a private panic about his brother being seen by anyone else and his unusual shape for a man noticed. He brooded on the problem even while Claire was watching for the next rest stop, which luckily for Dean’s composure, turned out to be only a couple of miles away.

She parked as close as she could get to the men’s restroom.

“Here!” Sam took his jacket off and thrust it at his brother, who was already moving to open the rear door of the van. Dean stared at him blankly. “I know it’ll be big on you but it’ll hide…”

“How fat I am. Say it, Sammy. I’m _fat_.”

“You’re not fat, Dean. You’ve just got a little bigger…” Claire tried to help. The younger brother instantly wished that she hadn’t.

“I _know_ I’m bigger!” The older man suddenly looked ready to burst into tears. “I’m _fat_ , and my old comfy jeans don’t fit me anymore. I worried I’d get stuck behind the steering wheel in my Baby; I constantly need to piss, and my ankles keep swelling up and the smell of bacon makes me want to throw up… I really mis _s_ _bacon!_ I fucking _hate_ this!”

Claire blinked at the unpleasant stench that suddenly filled the van. She didn’t know where it had come from… but for some reason she immediately associated it with Dean and his slightly hysterical and completely unwarranted self-disgust. Every urge in her body told her to go and comfort him…

But Sam already had his arms around his brother: “You’re only bigger because you’re going to have a baby.” He was rubbing Dean’s back as he tried to keep the tone of his voice as soothing as possible. “Your body will return to normal… well, your _new_ normal… once she’s here. And you won’t care _anyway_ because you’ll be too besotted with your little girl. And I promise the first thing I’ll cook you once she’s arrived is a bacon sandwich.

But for now, please put my jacket over you. _Please_.”

He used his eyes to their best pleading effect.

Then Sam’s dimples were coming out as Dean blinked hard a couple of times, before sighing and taking the soft, _large_ plaid over-shirt in question from his younger brother.

Who had been quite correct: once it was buttoned up, it hid the older man’s unusual shape and just made him look slightly like a little boy wearing his daddy’s clothes…

Sam couldn’t help but be more than a little satisfied at the thought that it was _his_ clothes though.

“What we doin’?” Jody had pulled her truck up beside the van and come round to join them, peering after Dean as he finally all but ran across to the rest room. She stepped back quickly as Sam hurried to follow, reluctant to let his brother out of his sight just in case and wincing at twinges now in his own back.

“Did you hear?” Claire asked as she also stepped out, glad to stretch her legs.

“I heard. Thanks, that was good thinking. Let’s go and grab some snacks to munch for the next bit.”

When they returned the brothers were waiting outside the van: both also grateful to stand up for a few minutes although Sam was making sure to place himself where his larger body would cover any curious by-passer’s view of Dean. “Dude, I’m _fine_ …” he was complaining, but the younger man didn’t care.

“So.” The sheriff asked. “Who’ya going to travel with this time?”

“You can take the bed in the back again if you need more rest, Dean,” Claire offered.

“Nah, I’m good.” He blushed slightly. “Sorry for being so pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic, boy.” Jody told him. “I remember what it was like to be pregnant: throws your whole body out of whack. Now. You wanna come with me for a while? Or stay with Claire?”

“Or I can call Cas and see where he’s gone to with the Impala,” Sam wondered. “Where _has_ he gone to anyway?”

“He said sommat about heading straight back to get some groceries in before you arrived. All what you had has probably gone out of date anyway, and Benjamin gave him a list of what Dean can manage to stomach.”

“That’s good of him.” The younger Winchester was grateful, as well as slightly guilty that he hadn’t thought of it himself. “I’ll give him a call and see what he’s getting.”

“Ask him to bring some pie!” Dean ordered. Sam couldn’t help but grin as he pressed the speed dial button for his friend.

“Sam.” It was answered promptly, as if the angel was expecting the call. “What flavour of pie would he prefer?”

It wasn’t often that Sam Winchester found himself speechless… then: “Cas? Have you been using your magical gracey-power to listen to our conversation?”

There was a long pause from the other end of the line.

“I apologise, Sam. I only wanted to… I wanted to know what he thought… and where we stood…

Please tell Claire I am sorry if I have made her ashamed of me.”

“Well?” The blonde had heard enough of Sam’s side to demand an answer. “Has he been listening _in?_ ”

Sam sighed and relayed the message: “He has, and he says he is sorry if he has made you ashamed of him.”

“Ashamed of him how?” Dean asked innocently.

There was another pause. Then: “Don’t worry about it.” “It’s nothing.” “I’m sure it don’t matter.” Dean stared in confusion and a growing suspicion at them all as the three voices all but spoke over each other’s at the same time… and Sam stared at Jody with furrowed eyebrows and more than a slight anxiety…

But then Castiel was speaking in his ear again. “And I am sorry if I have angered _you_ , Sam. I did not mean to intrude on your private communications…”

“It’s fine, Cas.” he interrupted. “We’re going to get on our way again. You might as well keep on listening: save Dean re-telling his story over and over…”

“Sam?” The green eyes now were staring straight at him.

“Well, I never got the chance to ask you last time, but you have a whole month of being missing to catch us up to date on. What better chance to tell us than now, when we’ve got a few hours to kill in a vehicle together. Or we can just play i-spy?”

Dean scratched at the back of his head nervously… “But…” he gestured at Jody and Claire with his other hand, “I…”

“They already know the worst of it.” Sam reminded him. He briefly glanced across at the sheriff: he had a horrible feeling that she _definitely_ already knew the worst of it, but then his attention was returning to his brother so he could plead with Dean with years-of-practice perfected puppy-dog-eyes. “We’re all in this with you… and we’ve all got questions…”

“We can use the cells: keep the line open between the vehicles…” Claire was already moving round to the driver’s seat of her van. Sam felt his blood run cold. “You with me, Dean? Or Jody? And don’t you dare leave anything out!”

“C’mon, boy.” The sheriff clapped him on the back and opened the passenger door to her truck. “It’ll be good to know you’re safely back. Come and keep me company, even if we only end up discussing why pecan pie will beat apple every time. C’mon, get in!”

She moved off around her vehicle to climb in to the driver’s side, leaving the brothers standing beside the open door. “ _Please_ , Dean.” Sam had _never_ purposely used his eyes to such deliberate effect before: he was _sure_ he hadn’t!

His brother rubbed the back of his head again. And sighed. “Yeah… _oh-k_ ay.”

He had talked himself out by the time they finally reached the Bunker, having spent the last couple of hours telling Sam and his three most trusted friends everything he could remember about the other dimension that he had somehow been taken to, and returned from being _sooo_ different.

Jody had sat quiet for the most part and let him speak, all too aware that Dean found it difficult to do so when the subject matter was himself. So had Sam on the other side of his brother, his thigh pressed tight against Dean’s own in the small enclosed cab of the truck and his hand covering the other’s ready to give a reassuring squeeze whenever the atmosphere in the truck began to smell of distressed omega.

If the sheriff noticed she didn’t comment, although occasionally she would lower the driver’s window for a moment or two despite the noisy rush of the wind past the moving vehicle. She only spoke to ask for clarification on a couple of points, (as did Claire who was listening intently on her phone in the van behind them, and once when Castiel had had to call on _his_ cell phone to ask for elucidation that his sanctioned long-distance eavesdropping couldn’t supply)… the main one being when her boy dismissed a fight with a simple ‘I had to kick some ass’, which when pressed by them all turned out to just him on his lonesome trying to defend the three terrified children in their own home against ‘a few men’, which when he was pushed even _more_ yielded the disturbing truth that the ‘few men’ had actually numbered about nine of them and they were _Alphas_ at that, and that the desperate (but truly _awesome_ and all the listeners were _incredibly_ proud of him) struggle had resulted in Dean receiving a couple of fractured ribs, a broken arm and a serious stab wound that to all their horror had come _far_ too close to nearly killing him and they all privately determined to show him how distraught they would have been if they had lost him and how much he was truly _loved_ … but essentially the greater part of the journey was taken up by the older Winchester’s gravelly voice and his incredible tale.

Following Sam’s directions as they got closer, Jody finally was relieved to pull her truck up outside… she didn’t know what the _hell_ it was! Surely her boys didn’t live here? It looked like… a solid metal door set into a solid metal arched doorway set into the side of a goddamn _hillside_ that had a monstrous mass of concrete and cement set above it…

This wasn’t a _home._

And it sure as hell wasn’t a home for a _child!_

 _“_ Y’all sure this is it? I’ve been thinking. Dean, why don’t you pick up a few things and come and stay with me? _And_ Sam can come! At least you’ll have other people there as well to help look after you… before _and_ after the baby…”

Dean was still getting used to his newly sharpened sense of smell… but he was suddenly _definitely_ aware of his younger brother’s anger beside him. And _Jesus!_ Sam’s rage _stunk!_

Quickly he moved to calm both his brother _and_ the moment down. “No, that’s okay, Jody. I know how it looks from the outside, but c’mon in and see it. This is _home_.

But… if I can’t cope… If I’m struggling… I mean. Well, _you_ know… then I’ll keep that in mind… if that’s okay…”

“Of _course_ it is!” And the sheriff was throwing her arms around him, which in the confined space of the cab of the truck was no easy feat. “You’re _always_ welcome! Both of ya!” And somehow she was pulling Sam into the embrace as well, which was even _more_ impressive. “I didn’t mean…

What I’m _trying_ to say… is that this isn’t going to be just the two of you for much longer. And that little girl, although she won’t need much more than _you_ , boy, for the first year or so… I’m supposing she’s going to grow at the same rate as a norm…” She broke off abruptly and tried again. “Well, whatever: you want her to grow up having a normal _life_ , don’tcha? She’s going to need to go to school: she’s going to want to have friends. She ain’t gonna want to bring them back here. I mean…

Just think about it. And you are… always… _welcome_.”

“Thanks, Jody.” It was heartfelt.

The brunette felt herself tear up a little and hastily blinked a few times. “Idgit.” She joked.

“Yeah.”

“C’mon.” Sam also had gotten something in his eye. “Let’s get you inside.”

He couldn’t help looking forward to Claire and Jody’s reaction to the inside of the Bunker. He could see the same excited spark of anticipation in Dean’s eyes as well…

… or was that just the thought of the pie that Castiel was hopefully going to bring back with him?

He wasn’t disappointed when he unlocked the door and stepped back to let the two women enter: the gasps and ‘wows’ were music to his ears. “Oh my god! It’s _huge!_ ”

And he _especially_ wasn’t disappointed when his brother couldn’t resist commenting as he also went past: “Well, _I’ve_ heard that all my life, but it’s probably the first for Sammy!”

 _God_ , how he had missed him!

Dean vanished quickly in the direction of the nearest bathroom, and with Jody and Claire still exclaiming while busily exploring all the different doors and corridors off the main room, that only left a sighing Sam to start unloading the considerable amount of luggage that his brother and niece-to-be had managed to amass in the last few months.

“ _Sam!_ ” The worried shout had him discarding everything without a thought and running in the direction that it had come from…

He found all three of them standing beside the open doorway of Dean’s bedroom… but any thoughts about anything else vanished without a trace from Sam’s mind as he took in the complexion of his brother.

Dean’s face had paled so much it was almost grey… scrub that, there was a definite _green_ tinge to his pallor. He looked like he was going to be violently sick. Or collapse, whichever came first.

Or _both_.

“Dean? Shit! Come and sit down. C’mon…” He had his arms tight around the older man… the disapproving expression on Jody’s face be _damned_ … and was trying to lead him in to the room towards the bed…

If anything, Dean’s colour got even greyer… or greener.

He began to try to pull away from the younger man: “The _smell_ , Sammy! It’s foul… it’s _gross_ … I’m gonna throw up!” And Sam was releasing him fully in a hurry as Dean jerked free and lurched with some considerable urgency back to the bathroom. They all winced at the sounds that almost immediately followed.

“What does he mean, the ‘smell’, Sam?” Jody began, but Claire interrupted her:

“It _is_ stale in here. The air, I mean. There’s sweat, and… something else that’s… Even _my_ nose is wrinkling with how stagnant it is, and Dean’s sense of smell is _far_ beyond mine now. When was the bedding etc last changed: would you know?”

She looked expectantly at Sam… who looked blank. “ _I_ don’t know. I mean… since he disappeared I’ve spent the entire time looking for him… so nothing in this room’s been touched since that night…

That night he…

Oh shit.”

“Sam?”

“We… er… “

“What is it, boy?”

“We used to use his room. For…er… I mean. Dean had the most comfortable bed. So… er…”

“And nothing’s been changed in here since?” The sheriff’s tone was sharp. “So he can smell what _you_ and Castiel and the other Dean _did…?_ You used his _room?!”_

“Did I hear my name?” The angel chose that moment to appear around the corner of the Bunker, still with a couple of bags of groceries in his arms. “What’s going on? What’s that sound? Is Dean…?”At any other time Sam would have been amused at how quickly Cas’s face went from smiling to abashed… if it weren’t for the fact that _his_ face was probably even more so…

“Let’s get this room sorted out for him.” Jody took charge. “In fact, we’ll have a tidy up all round. Sam, where do you keep the clean bedding? And is there any air freshener…?”

“Benjamin sent candles: handmade ones from local bees with natural fragrances that he said would help Dean to relax. We could light one of them.” Claire pointed out.

“Good idea. Go and get them! _Well?_ Go’on git moving! _All_ of you!”

“Yes ma’am!”

Sam spoke for them all as every single one of the others hustled to obey…

Jody sighed as she watched them all scurry away and went in search of Dean.

To her relief the unpleasant sounds from the bathroom had eased. But she was still concerned when she discovered the pregnant man slumped exhaustedly beside the toilet. The brunette was down on her knees beside him in an instant.

“Hey.” She wrapped her arms around him, tightening them as she felt Dean trembling from his efforts immediately before.

“I can’t _do_ this, Jody! Look at me! I’m so _useless!_ I’m so fat I _waddle_ , and everything that I previously _loved_ just makes me hurl! And every single fucking _smell_ does the same!

I can’t even _stomach_ the thought of red meat! And that room… _my_ room… Just walking _into_ it did this…

 _Look_ at me!

Sammy’s probably already wishing he’d never found me: I don’t know why he even bothered to _look_ …”

Jody had to bite down hard to contain her smirk: “Boy, now you just hold ya horses and listen to me! Sam’s not done _anything_ but look for you since the day you went missing… why? Because he loves you! I admit I’m a bit surprised at just how _much_ , but… he would never give up on you, because _you_ have never given up on _him!_

And he _loves_ you.

So _much_ , Dean. We _all_ do. None of us _ever_ would have stopped looking.

And none of us are looking at you any different, aside from the fact that you’re pregnant! Believe me: I remember _that!_ I banned my poor Sean from touching a drop of coffee all the way through my nine months because the smell made me throw up _every_ single darned time… and the day I found out he’d been sneaking it at his work… oh boy! I was almost a widow before I was a mommy!”

Jody paused to take a breath. “All that matters to us, _any_ of us, is that we’ve got you back safely and we’re going to do everything we can to help you through this.

All _you_ need to do, is concentrate on yourself for probably the first time _ever_ in your life. And in a couple of months all the nausea will have passed, all the extra weight will have gone… probably… and you won’t give a flying fuck because all that will matter is that little baby in your arms!

Now c’mon. Let’s get you up off this floor. You can rinse your mouth and wash your face, and I’ll make you a nice cup of that tea that Benjamin packed for ya, okay?” 

“Okay, mom!”

The words were humourous… but there was a tone of longing beneath them that brought definite tears to Jody’s eyes. “You better believe it!” was all she could manage to say once she had blinked a couple of times. “And I’m claiming the position of doting grandma, so you better get used to it!”

Dean, now back on his feet, chuckled at her but there was a noticeable hitch in his voice when he next spoke: “Okay… grandma!”

Jody gave him a big hug, which was returned warmly. “Rinse your mouth, ya big lug! I’ll go and find that box with those packets in.”

Leaving Dean to regain his composure, Jody turned from closing the bathroom door to find an anxious Sam standing behind her, his arms full of clean, fresh bedding. “He okay?”

“He’s fine.” The sheriff smiled. “I remember being pregnant with O… Owen: my emotions were all _over_ the place. Mood-swings just don’t come _close_ to describing it! And I was _terrified_ : terrified that I wouldn’t cope; that I’d be a terrible parent; that I’d done the wrong thing by even _wanting_ to have a baby, that somehow I’d messed Sean’s and my life’s up completely!

You’ve got a few rough weeks ahead, boy, but just give him some slack…”

“I’m worried about the nausea and sickness, Jody. Even that Benjamin said Dean’s almost constant vomiting was worrying…”

“He also wondered if it was because your brother wasn’t _born_ an omega but instead was turned. His body’s gone through so much change in only a few months, this being only the apex of it! He’s been changed into… _something_ ; he’s grown a _womb_ for god’s sake! His entire system’s struggling to catch up! Some women have morning sickness the whole way through the pregnancy and at all times and they haven’t gone through anything like he has!”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sam didn’t sound convinced. If anything he looked more worried. “I just... I was so wrapped up in finding him that I… never really thought about…”

“I know.” The brunette smiled up at him. “I just told him and I’m telling you: I count myself as family to both you boys. And I intend to be around from now on. A _lot!_ ”

She got her second warm hug in as many minutes, despite Sam’s arms being somewhat hampered by the bedding. And a fully-deeply-dimpled grin that she was just realising that she had missed very much. “You’ll be welcome, Jody. You always will be. And Claire of course.”

“Here, give me those.” She took the sheets and blankets from him. “You get yourself a shower and get some fresh clothes and er…” she motioned at her own chin… “why don’t you try and tidy up a little? He’s right: you _do_ look like a hobo. And smell a bit like one as well!” the sheriff added mischievously.

Sam nodded absently… then suddenly blushed as her words registered. “Look, Jody, I…”

“None of my business, Sam! Just… mind your brother. Look out for him. He needs you now more than he _ever_ has. Now go on!”

The young man hastened to obey, hurrying to his own room to fetch some toiletries and clean clothes before moving to the bathroom that he normally used. For the first time in a _long_ time, he took more than a brief look at himself in the mirror… and was surprised by his reflection.

His hair had _grown_. The majority was now far beyond shoulder-length and his bangs were falling over his face. He had taken to pinning it up in a small ponytail to keep it from getting in his eyes (mindful of the mockery that he would have received from his brother had Dean seen and yet yearning for it at the same time), but actually… it did look a mess. Even to him.

And his beard? It was wispy and unkempt all at once, not to mention straggly and sticking out awkwardly in patches. And, oh my god, Sam could see his dad when he looked at himself! He had always thought that Dean looked more like John… with the exception of his brother having their mother’s vivid green eyes of course… but… there was just that little bit of similarity in the mirrored glass…

That was it. The beard was coming off! Every last bit of it!

And it was totally worth it, when half an hour or so later, he emerged from the room amid a cloud of steam, (and with a slightly sore chin), and headed to where he could hear conversation and laughter.

He found his brother and his friends in the kitchen. Dean was settled on one of the chairs at the small table with a hot drink in his hands (having been told somewhat firmly after the third time of asking that his help was _not_ needed) talking away to the two females and Castiel who were all preoccupied between them with cooking and putting the last of the newly bought groceries away.

He looked round as Sam entered… and the wide open genuine smile of pleasure on his face as he saw his brother in his newly unshaven state just made the younger man’s heart feel like it would swell so much as to burst. He couldn’t help himself from moving directly across to Dean and wrapping his arms around him, but managed to curb his desperate temptation to rub his newly smooth skin against the other man’s face to instead simply ask: “Better?”

“ _Much!_ ” Dean allowed the hug to continue a couple more moments, then: “Erm, Sammy?”

“Chick flick over?” The younger man said it with a smile but didn’t let go… not just yet.

“Chick flick over.”

Reluctantly Sam let go: “What’cha cooking over there, Jody? It’s smelling good!”

“Claire’s in charge,” came the simple response. “Cas and I have been sorting the rooms out: yours as well, Sam.” She hurried on as the younger brother caught his breath and looked at her with wide eyes. “I know you haven’t had a chance to do much here lately… and even less inclination with everything else on your mind.

So you’ve both got clean fresh bedding and they’ve been given an airing, while Claire got on with putting a couple of chickens in to roast…. this is a tremendous kitchen you boys have got by the way… so you’ll have plenty of leftovers for sandwiches or whatever tomorrow. And there’s jacket potatoes and broccoli and a plain gravy: we thought that simple food might be better...”

“Good thinking.” Sam was so grateful to them all. Internally he felt _he_ was freaking out about… well, _everything!_... but these wonderful people that he thought of as family rather than just friends were all so incredibly calm and just taking the whole situation in their stride. “Anything I can do?”

“Nah, just sit. Your brother’s been supervising, so everything should be away in the correct cupboards okay. You wanna beer?”

“I…” but then Sam was pausing to glance at Dean… and his bump. “No. Thanks but I’m good.”

“Don’t feel you can’t on _my_ account.” His brother grunted. “Go ahead.”

“I’m good.” The younger man repeated. “Can I smell coffee? That’ll be fine.”

“Uh huh” Claire grinned knowingly. “We’re _all_ laying off the alcohol for a while. There’s still some time to go before we can eat, but do you think we’ll all fit around this table? You wanna set it and find another chair?”

“I’ll fetch one.” Castiel spoke up. “Before I forget to say, there is apple pie for dessert.”

“Can we have it first? Like _now?_ ” Dean asked earnestly and made everybody laugh.

And the laughter went on throughout the meal, when they were all squished around the small table in the kitchen, (Dean having moved up a little to make room for Castiel’s wings to the other three’s incredulity and the appreciation of the angel)… and afterwards when they had all finished eating, they were all still there sampling Dean’s new herbal teas and discovering that they were actually really pleasant to drink… and after _that_ , when the evening had stretched into night but the stories... some true, some not: all unanimously light or funny, no sadness wanted _that_ evening… went on.

Sam was sitting next to his brother and hearing him laugh… and he suddenly realised... it abruptly came to him like a bolt from the blue… that this was _really_ all that he had ever actually _wanted_.

Him, his brother, a family. Didn’t have to be a blood one to count as _family_.

Just being _happy_.

 _This_ was all Sam had wanted all his life. And he finally had it.

As if somehow sensing the emotions swirling around inside his little brother’s mind, Dean, without even turning his head, reached to pat Sam’s leg.

The younger man immediately simply closed his own large hand over his brother’s to hold it where it was… and felt his life was finally complete when Dean let him. For a few minutes at least.

But it was enough. Sam could _do_ this. He could be a brother again and _only_ a brother, and a proud uncle.

And that was enough.

Because in every other way, he had everything he would ever need.


	5. Chapter Five

Over the next weeks they gradually fell into a new routine.

Sam had awoken late that first morning; surprised that he had slept in for so long and with his brain feeling almost foggy from too _much_ sleep after so many months of hardly any.

He had stumbled into the kitchen unable to stifle his yawns…

“Tough night?” Jody chuckled from where she sat at the table enjoying a mug-full of steaming hot coffee and looking at her tablet.

“Hh-hum.” Sam couldn’t help but yawn again. “Where is everyone? Any sign of Dean yet?” as he also helped himself to some of the beverage.

The brunette snorted. “He’s been up for hours! He decided that he didn’t like the way we’d stocked the cupboards yesterday after all, so I caught him rearranging everything this morning!”

“He what?!” The young man stared. “He’s supposed to be _resting!_ ”

“Relax,” Jody grinned. “Castiel was helping him: between them they’ve wiped down just about every surface in here! It’s called ‘nesting’, boy. He’s come home, and he just wants everything right, that’s all.”

Her smile was infectious: Sam calmed down just seeing it. He laughed and sat across from her. “I remember just after we’d found this place and moved in…

Dean was so excited. I didn’t get it then. I suppose I’d had four or so years at College and I still had hopes of somehow living… a normal _life_.

In a normal house with a ‘white picket fence’ as he would say…

I didn’t get how much it _meant_ to him. Actually having a room of his very own. Coming back to the same walls beneath the same roof, knowing that he could leave something and it would still be there exactly where he left it…”

Sam smiled at the memories: “it was then he began to cook properly and I realised just how bloody good he _is!_ He should have been a _chef_ , never mind a mechanic!

And when I took the mickey out of him, that’s exactly what he used to say… that he was nesting! I remember him getting so upset that I didn’t feel the same way about this place as he did: that I only thought of it as a workplace and not a home…

He sighed.

“I just didn’t _understand_ …”

“You do _now_ , boy!” Jody told him. “And the way you’ve been determined to find him and bring him back here, _you_ think of this place as ‘home’ as well now!”

“ _He’s_ my home.” The man spoke without thinking… but even if he had, he would have said exactly the same thing.

The sheriff met his eyes and nodded... then changed the subject… sort of. “I’m still amazed at the inside of this place, Sam. It’s… wow! But for a child…”

“I know,” he agreed. “I was thinking about that last night…. If we need to, then we’ll take you up on your offer please. But for now, he seems happy to be home. Where is he, anyway? He better be resting _now!_ ”

Jody laughed again. “Hardly! He was worried about the way Claire’s engine was sounding so they’re in the garage… which is also incredible by the way… and I want a go in your shooting range before I leave…”

She was talking to herself…

Sam had already gone.

“What the hell are you _doing?_ ” he all but exploded as he caught up to where his brother, the angel and the beautiful young blonde were all standing around the open hood of the van. “I told you not to work on it! I told you _I’d_ do it!”

“Don’t get your panties in the proverbial twist, Princess!” Sam might have completely missed Dean these last few months but just at that exact moment he couldn’t actually remember _why_. “Cas and Claire have done the heavy stuff: all I’ve done is tell them what to do!”

At least that made Sam pause. “Seriously?”

“He has not touched the engine, Sam.” Castiel’s tone was as calm and steady as always. “Claire is leaving this afternoon and he was worried that the van would fail her…”

“You’re going? _Already!?”_ The young man had all but forgotten why he had rushed to the garage. “I thought… well, I hoped…

You’re welcome to stay. As long as you want. You can use this as a base if you’d like…”

“What my Sammy is trying to say,” Dean laughed. Sam thought it was a wonderful sound. “What he’s trying so inarticulately to say, is that you’re family. And you’re welcome to call this place home.”

“I’d like that,” Claire smiled. “But right now I have to go. And _you!”_ This was said with a sweep of her hands at all the three men. “Y’all need to… there’s probably still a few things to sort out, let’s say, and it’ll be better if there’s no one else around…

But I’ll be right at the other end of a phone if you need me. And you can call anytime, I _mean_ that.” This last was addressed to the one of them who was pregnant.

And he, to his chagrin, had to hastily wipe at his eyes with his sleeve: “Goddamn hormones!”

Claire laughed as she was suddenly caught in a huge embrace, and she could feel Dean trembling slightly as he tried to contain the strength of his sentiment… “Idgit!” she whispered as she tightened her own arms around his neck in return and felt the man chuckle against her.

“I wish he was here,” Dean confided right into her ear. “I miss him so much: he always knew what to do…”

“Jody told me all about him,” Claire breathed back. “She said he was always so proud of you. Loved you like the son he never had…”

That was it. The mummy-daddy to be had to hastily pull away, averting his eyes to the ground to avoid meeting anyone else’s in the vast open space as he abruptly walked out of sight behind the van. “Sorry, I’ll be right back!”

“Dean?”

Sam was already moving to follow, concerned at what could have suddenly caused his brother to seem so upset, but the beautiful blonde caught at his arm: “Just give him a minute. Cas, is it all done now?”

“It is indeed, Claire.” The angel had also been looking with some concern in the direction that his friend had so hurriedly disappeared to but he turned readily enough back to the young woman: “That was a lovely thing you said to him: it obviously means the world…”

“I only told the truth,” but her eyes were glistening, despite her brief annoyance at the angel’s intentional eavesdropping via his inhuman hearing. Sam stood and stared at them both with growing impatience, waiting for an explanation.

But then he was turning to greet his brother as he heard him returning. Dean’s eyes were red-rimmed and he was somewhat noisily blowing his nose: “Sorry about that! Must have rubbed some grease into my eye…”

His words were brought up short by the simple expedient of suddenly finding his face pressed against the solid chest of his younger brother and two long strong arms wrapped around his body and back, pulling him in. “You okay?” Sam softly asked.

Dean tried to pull away. His annoyingly taller and larger little brother held tight… and grinned as he felt the older man concede their small battle with a somewhat grumpy sounding sigh: “I’m fine. Now gerroff!”

But he didn’t move away as Sam released his hold only enough to instead stand with one arm curled around his brother’s waist as they both turned back to the others: the younger man simply reluctant to not be close to the other man now he had finally found him, and Dean… well…

… he seemed to appreciate that.

“Start her up a minute, Claire. Let me hear how she’s running now!”

“Since when did my van become a she…?” The blonde grumbled good-naturedly even as she climbed into the driver’s seat to obey: her smile becoming a wide grin as the tone of the engine now sounded much smoother even to _her_ untrained ear. “That’s brilliant! Thanks Dean!”

“Least I can do, Claire. Thanks for…. well, _you_ know… helping _this_ big lug look for me… I…”

“Nothing more to say.” She shrugged at him. “We’d _never_ have stopped. Not a single one of us.”

Then they were all grinning as Dean blushed from the tips of his ears to as far beneath the collar of his loose-fitting shirt as could be seen, and Sam couldn’t help but give him another hug. “C’mon. I’m hungry. Claire, you going to grab something to eat before you go?”

“Always got time for food, Uncle Sammy!” The girl teased him, and it was the younger brother’s turn to go bright red in the face.

Both the brothers had been sorry when the young woman and Jody had made their excuses soon after the meal and left.

But at the same time…

… it was a toss up as to which of them gave the loudest sigh of relief.

From then on Sam had just about split his time in three. Mornings were spent doing groceries runs, fetching items ordered online by his brother, or studying local advertisements for actual paid work to try and make the brothers at least a _little_ respectable for if they wanted to be part of normal society in the future.

Evenings were spent sitting with Dean and watching DVDs or actually, to Sam’s amazement, just _talking_ with his brother about… _lots_ of things.

While the afternoons, which was when the pregnant man often did seem to now need a rest, were spent by Sam on his laptop, looking up news stories and legends for possible hunts as had been his habit for years. The only difference was that now he passed them over to other Hunters, much to his brother’s anxiety: “What if they can’t handle them? What if they need back up?”

“Then they get back up from someone else. My place is right here with you: I’m not going _anywhere_ , Dean. _Really._ ”

And every time the older man would bite at his lower lip with a mixture of nervous anxiety and relief that he was desperate not to admit to.

But Sam knew it anyway.

He was grateful that Dean seemed to have accepted that his own Hunting days were probably over.

Not only was the older man’s somewhat eye-catching and definitely abnormal shape making him reluctant to risk leaving the safety of the Bunker at all until the baby was born, but also Dean had determined to himself that his daughter would have _one_ permanent and preferably alive parent to count on: at least until the goddess had finally revealed her plans for him and hopefully, his mate.

The fact that he was getting increasingly fatigued with every extra pound gained also helped.

“Let me get that.”

“I’m fine, Sammy.”

“Go and sit down and put your feet up. Just tell us what needs doing.”

And Dean would…

… Eventually.

Although quite a few times both Sam and Castiel would have to bite their own lips _hard_ not to get infuriated with him first.

Between the three of them, the main areas of the Bunker had been cleaned and sanitised to within an inch of their lives… the rooms _and_ the men… well, Sam’s and Castiel’s lives, anyway: the pregnant man having been designated despite his protests to watch only and _not_ assist...

Dean had had a good look at the rooms either side to his bedroom and eventually decided on the one that would be his daughter’s once she was old enough to sleep on her own. His younger brother and the angel had spent an entire afternoon and evening clearing all the Men of Letter’s sealed crates and boxes out of it: no mean feat when every single one had to be checked carefully in case it contained a cursed or other dangerous item.

Castiel had been sent off to pick up some low odour paint that Dean had ordered online from the nearest hardware store. Sam had been surprised when it hadn’t been the pastel pinks that _he_ had suggested but instead had mostly consisted of boring browns and greens. Lots of them!

He had got quite snippy about it: “What do you want these for? It’s going to look terrible!” Then he had regretted his words as Dean’s eyes had filled with tears and the older man had retired to his own room for the rest of the day.

How Sam had wished he could follow him and just hold his brother tight…

To hell with it: it had taken him until the evening to build up the nerve but he had done just that. “ _I’m_ sorry.”

“S’okay.” Dean had snuffled into the material of the shirt covering the younger man’s chest.

“It’s not. We’ll decorate it exactly as you want it: you just tell us and we’ll do it…”

“S’okay.” His brother had sniffed again.

The very next day he had asked Sam and Cas if they wouldn’t mind helping him clear out the _other_ room instead.

Sam sighed as he stood and looked around: that had been three weeks ago and the second choice room had still not been painted, although he had offered numerous times. He had even opened one of the tins of yucky reddish brown paint to start it as a surprise, although it had been _him_ who had been taken aback when he had found it more than half empty. “Dean, you imbecile: you got sold a dud!”

He had gone to look for his brother. Dean had been worrying him by seeming to be extra tired since… well, since Sam had upset him about the paint… and had actually started listening to their advice about having an afternoon nap most days without _arguing_.

Which _really_ worried Sam!

But the mystery of the missing paint had been forgotten instantly upon finding the older man in his room and once again in tears. “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t fit into _any_ of my _pants!”_

Sam smiled as he remembered: it had been one the few times that Dean had actually let himself be held without getting anxious about it. He understood that the older man was still a little worried about being close… _too_ close… to him and Castiel after… well, after what they had gotten up to with the other Dean…

But.

His brother might not want to face it, but he had changed. Not only physically, but emotionally.

In fact… Dean had gotten… actually… really touchy...

He just hadn’t _realised_ that he had.

If they were sitting together watching the TV, Dean would rest his hand on his brother’s arm without being aware that he was doing it… And since he had started to seem so tired all the time, Sam had taken to steadying the older man as he walked around just in case he slipped.

Just a gentle hand against the small of his back…

… which Dean would lean back against …

… in fact he would move _closer_ to Sam… or Castiel, if it were the angel providing the support… seeking the touch… yearning for the physical contact when he wasn’t thinking about what he was doing…

… until all of a sudden he _would_ realise and then he would get flustered and pointedly pull away and bite poutingly at his lower lip and look…

… _adorable_ …

… but sad.

Sam _hated_ it when Dean looked sad.

Which is why he took every chance to hold him, as did Cas, because the older Winchester, whether he understood why or not, _needed_ that proximity to another living, warm being…

And if his younger brother and the angel also got some modest pleasure from it then they would take it, no matter how small.

So over the last few weeks they had fallen into a routine, all three of them. One of as near domestic bliss as each brother had given up thinking that they would ever be able to have…

Everything was perfect…

… Well, apart from the still undecorated room…

Sam once again found himself standing in it, looking around at the still bare concrete walls of the imminent nursery to be with some anxiety. He sighed and called out to his brother: “Dean? Are you up for some painting? _We’ll_ do it. Just come and tell us how _you’re_ wanting it to be: I’m sorry I upset you….

Dean?”

He started to panic when he couldn’t find his brother anywhere at all. “Cas? _Cas?_ Have you seen Dean?”

“He said he needed some air, Sam.” The deep calm voice did nothing to ease the young man’s anxiety.

“He’s… he’s _outside?_ He’s gone outside the _Bunker?_ I… How…? What were you _thinking,_ letting him _go?_ ” Sam all but erupted, hurrying back up to the main area and the curved set of steps that led to the external world and reaching for his cell as he did.

“Come on, come on: answer your fucking phone…” His long legs had already taken him through the doorway, banging the heavy metal door open with a loud clang as Sam’s memory… of rushing outside a few months before in a frantic and fruitless search for his brother… overcame his logic…

… which _would_ have reminded him had he just paused to think for a moment that the Dean who had fled that _first_ time had been at the peak of his fitness, and not nearly full-term pregnant!

Sam came nearly to a dead stop outside upon the realisation that, just _like_ that night, it had gone dark outside. Shit, he must have really lost track of time: he had been reading through one of Benjamin’s books of legends about the Pawnees and their superstitions, which was actually really _interesting_. The last time he had seen Dean was when he had gone to have an afternoon nap… that must have finished ages ago, and they should all be having _dinner_ together by now and…

He was panicking.

Time seemed to stand still…

Last time his brother had just disappeared into seemingly thin air and Sam just hadn’t been able to find him… not for months…

What if he couldn’t find him _this_ time…?

What if…

“Hey, what’s up?” His brother’s deep gravelly voice cut through his stupefaction as the call connected. “Sammy? You okay?”

“ _Yes!_ Yes…. Where _are_ you?” The young man felt that his mouth had lost every last molecule of moisture… he could hardly speak…

“I just got a little antsy, being inside all the time. And I didn’t realise that…”

“That…?”

He heard his older brother heave a big deep sigh down the line: “I’m up the path on the ridge above the Bunker. C’mon join me.” There was a click as the call was hung up.

“Sam? Is he alright? I’m sorry, I just didn’t think…” The angel had followed right behind him out of the Bunker door and was standing just as helplessly as the young man had felt.

“Not now, Cas!” Sam didn’t pause to say anymore: he was already racing up the road towards the small track that led up the hill above them, hardly aware of the running footsteps that were instantly behind him.

They sprinted up the path towards the summit… only to slide to a halt on the dirt.

Sam hadn’t registered the night fully as he had run out of the Bunker. Yes, the evening had drawn into night without the young man noticing, but actually, now the clouds were shifting once more, they were revealing a stunningly beautiful full moon that was lightening the entire area around to be almost as bright as the day.

It was lighting _Dean_ fully in its glow.

He was sitting on the brow of the hill, leaning comfortably back on his elbows with his legs stretched in front of him, as relaxed as Sam had seen his brother in years. Somehow the radiance from the moon seemed to be focusing on him and him alone, and Dean was unconsciously luxuriating in it just as a bikini-clad woman on a beach would worship the sun.

Sam swept to his knees beside him and flung his arms around the older man, hauling him up into a more seated position. “You okay? I was worried!”

“Sorry,” Dean grunted. “I just couldn’t settle to anything inside today. Couldn’t even unwind enough to sleep earlier! Just felt… I felt that I had to be outside.

And then when I _came_ out… I looked up and there she was…” He indicated the brilliantly shining orb above them.

Sam adjusted his position to sit beside his brother on the ground: feeling safe enough that moment to put his arm around Dean’s shoulders and hug him tight.

Castiel joined them to also sit on his friend’s other side and reached to cover Dean’s hand with his own, smiling when the man allowed him without thinking, and indeed squeezed his fingers back a little. “Is she talking to you? Can you hear her?”

Dean shook his head: “Not in so many words. But she was calling. I know you two don’t believe me. But…”

“But?” His younger brother prompted.

Dean bit his lip. “Everything’s going to be okay, Sammy. Don’t ask me how or why I know, but I do. She’s got this whole thing covered…”

Sam wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Dean how insane he sounded, and how he had been brain-washed somehow by something evil that couldn’t possibly be a fucking _Goddess_ …

… but he didn’t.

Because he was sitting with his brother close enough to count as being in his arms, and Dean was nearing the approximate date of giving birth (as far as they and Benjamin had been able to guess), and for once his brother was calm and contented and not full of nerves, _and_ not feeling nauseous which was still a major worry to the younger man, and whatever was causing _that_ to happen… or not to happen as the case might be… was okay.

Sam would take it.

His brother actually looked better rested the next day than any since he had found him again. “You sleep well?”

“Yeah, yes I did.” Dean’s eyes actually sparkled a little as he smiled. “Right through for a change. I didn’t even need to get up to piss!”

“God, you’ve really always got to spoil things, haven’t you?” Sam scolded in disgust. “You couldn’t just leave that last bit off!”

“It’s all part of a big brother’s job!” Dean smirked at him. “Gotta upset you daily otherwise you’d get complacent!”

The younger man tutted, but internally he was laughing along. And he had to admit that the moon had been absolutely stunning the previous evening: Sam couldn’t _ever_ remember seeing it so beautiful… or so _large_.

Why did it seem to look so large?

But it didn’t matter. Because just at that particular moment beneath that unnaturally large moon, Sam had been completely content to sit on the grassy bank with his arm tight around an uncomplaining Dean, with Castiel sitting equally close the other side of his brother with his hand now holding the pregnant man’s tightly and resting on his bump…

Sam would have been completely content to live in that particular moment for the entire rest of his _life_ …

He would _give_ his life for Dean. And Castiel would. And for the baby of course…

Sam and the angel would stand between Dean, his little girl, and the whole fucking _universe_ if they had to.

They went for a walk outside the Bunker every evening for the few days that the moon was full, and even Sam had to admit that it was having a major effect on his brother.

And definitely in a good way.

For the first time since he had been brought back to the Bunker, Dean seemed to have let himself relax. He was actually managing to get some decent sleep and most importantly, his incessant nausea _finally_ seemed to have eased. He was managing to enjoy his food again… although Sam had his brother on the strict nutritional diet that Benjamin had devised... and despite the older man’s grumbles about too much rabbit food and not enough pie, he was starting to look healthier and with more colour in his face than he had for a long time.

And because Sam (and Castiel, although the angel didn’t really need to!) were eating the same as Dean… well, even the young man had to admit that the elderly native Pawnee’s regime was doing a lot of good. For _him_ as _well_ as his brother.

Although when he went grocery shopping, Sam did occasionally take time out to sneak away and have a crafty burger. Just the thought of red meat was what seemed to turn Dean’s stomach the _most_ , and the older man had already declared, quite _seriously_ to Sam’s surprise, that he would probably never be able to eat it again…

Which declaration had probably shaken the younger man more than anything else… possibly even more than his big brother somehow having a _baby_ … that not only had Dean been somehow altered by being abducted to that other dimension _..._

… but that the change itself was going to prove to be irreversible.

Even as Sam chomped down on his latest sly bacon cheeseburger, he was seething: no matter how long it took him, he was going to _kill_ that Goddess _bitch_ for doing this to his Dean.

He wasn’t going to let her get away with it, no matter _what_ he had to do. He was going to find her and _end_ her.

But he had to do it somehow without upsetting his brother.

The days passed… and the estimated due date of the birth got closer…

“What’s going on?” Dean had heard the agitation in Sam’s voice as he approached the kitchen: the younger man was striding around, talking animatedly into his cell. “Is it Jody? Claire?”

Sam momentarily paused from the call and ran his hand through his long hair: “Charlie.”

“ _Charlie?_ What’s going on? Is she okay?” The older man was instantly as vexed as his brother.

“You need to sit down! You’re only days away from giving birth!”

“He’s _what?!_ ” The screech down the line was heard even by the angel as he came down the corridor. Dean paled even as he rested his now considerable weight on the chair and stared at the younger man with wide eyes.

“We’ll talk about that later!” Sam hastily turned his back on his brother and hissed down into the cell. “Not one word, Charlie! I mean it! Just keep telling me about this Sarangay!”

“What’s a Sarangay?” “But they are not native to America.” Both Dean and Castiel started to speak at once but it was the latter who carried on talking… “They come from the Philippines: they are a bull-like monster. What would one be doing here?”

“The parents stole its jewel just before they emigrated.” Sam explained. “They thought they’d be safe by running away to another continent but it’s tracked them down. The father’s already been killed: now it’s coming after the rest of the family.”

“They are in serious trouble.” Castiel stated the obvious in his own uniquely unemotional style: “A Sarangay will never give up until they are all dead.”

“I know!” Sam’s anxiety was now explained. “And Charlie’s in the middle of it! _She_ can’t handle it on her _own_ …”

“I’m still _here_ , bitch.” The redhead’s loud voice down the phone gave away her lack of amusement at that comment. “And what the hell’s going on with Dean? Did I _hear_ that right: did you just say he’s going to give _birth…?_ ”

“Not. _Now!_ ” Sam shouted as Dean’s complexion impossibly went whiter and his green eyes filled with tears. “Charlie, I mean it! Look, I’ll get another Hunter to come and help you: it’ll need at least two…”

“It’ll take more than two.” Castiel informed him. “A Sarangay is an extremely formidable beast. She will need my assistance.”

“Great! Cas? Will you be able to go and help her?” Sam felt a wave of relief although he was still worried about their friend and the incredibly dangerous monster that she would be facing: in any other circumstance he would have been _itching_ to go himself. “Charlie, text me where you are and _wait_ there. Cas is on his way. Don’t you _dare_ try and deal with it on your own…”

“ _You_ go as well, Sammy.” Dean understood his brother completely. “She’ll need your expertise…”

“I’m staying with you!” The younger man’s reaction was immediate. “No _way_ am I leaving you alone this close…”

“Sammy.” Dean’s tone left no room for argument. At _all._ “It’s Charlie. She needs your help. Now git going: you’re wasting time…

I’ll be _fine_.” As Sam opened his mouth to try and disagree anyway. “ _Really_. Now _go._ ”

“You sure…?” The younger man was torn... he loved the red-headed girl like the sister he had never had… but… he would burn himself and the whole _world_ to hell if _anything_ happened to his brother… “What if you go into labour? Shut _up_ , Charlie! No: you need me here…”

“Sammy.” Dean reached with his arms to take a tight hold on the younger man’s shoulders: they looked into each other’s eyes momentarily… “It’s _Charlie_. You need to _help_ her…

… Now _go!_ ”

Sam stared down at the older man’s sternly set jaw and saw, (with a tremendous relief that he didn’t want to admit to), that there would be no further discussion. Finally he nodded: “Okay. But you’re to check in with me every hour, I _mean_ it! If you miss just _one_ I’m straight back! Charlie, text me the address: Cas and I are on our way…

…. Let’s get this over with as fast as we can.”

“I could fly you, Sam.” Castiel offered.

But the young man shook his head “We’re gonna need a ton of stuff from the Impala… and if you wouldn’t mind driving, I’ve got a few books in mind to bring and start looking through on the way. I don’t want to have to waste a single minute once we’re there…

… And _you!_ ” This was addressed to Dean. “I mean it! The slightest twinge… _any_ little thing and I’m right back here!”

“Okay, bitch.”

“Shut up, jerk!” And Sam was hurrying to fetch the books he wanted… “And don’t you _dare_ try and paint that room on your own!”

Dean watched the Bunker door shut behind them… and gave a massive sigh of relief. He loved his brother and his angel… he _really_ loved them both… but they were getting just so… _suffocating_.

He walked… waddled, shit: he was _definitely_ waddling… back to the kitchen and ran himself a glass of water. God, he missed whisky...

But he had to admit he was grateful that Sam had insisted on joining him in abstinence and instead had poured every single bottle of it away… which was a really, really thoughtful thing to do that Dean had appreciated very much, especially as even the _thought_ of the smell of strong liquor had been making him want to vomit earlier in the pregnancy…

In fact, his brother had been amazing about everything. _And_ Castiel had.

But now… if Dean dropped anything on the floor, it had been picked up for him before he could even get his body low enough to get _close_ to try and get it himself, which was great of them but he wasn’t _incapable_ …

And if he rubbed at his back… which always seemed to be aching lately… then both of the others would be immediately fussing around him, wanting him to sit down and rest, or offering to call Benjamin…

And once he _was_ sat down, then one or the other of them would offer to rub his feet and ankles… which _did_ seem to be permanently swollen lately… or fetch him what he needed so he didn’t have to try and get _up_ again which Dean had to admit was becoming a major struggle for him lately, but that wasn’t the _point_ …

It was demeaning.

It was _embarrassing_.

And Dean just kept feeling like bursting into tears because of how _good_ it all felt, and how he wasn’t alone like he thought he was going to be and how no matter what had happened, Sam and Castiel had just accepted him and what he was now and what was going to happen imminently, and they both wanted to be really involved, and neither of them had touched him at _all_ inappropriately although they both always instinctively seemed to know when he needed a hug and he _always_ seemed to be needing a hug lately and…

Dean drank his water and wiped his eyes… Shit, he really missed them both _already_.

And he was worried about Charlie: he had no idea what the fuck a Sarangay was but it sounded _nasty_. He wished he could have gone himself to help her… although she would really have been _freaked_ to see him looking so fat…

… Would she ever want to see him again?

What if she thought _he_ was the freak?

What if she wanted to hunt him down like the monster he was…?

Dean wiped away his _next_ lot of tears and shook his head at himself. He was being ridiculous: his Sammy wouldn’t let _anyone_ hurt him. Not even Charlie _._

With a sigh he refilled his glass of water and headed for the bedroom he had picked out for his daughter: he had some _painting_ to finish!

Dean was just rinsing out the brushes when he heard the main Bunker door clang shut. Instantly he was on alert: “Sammy? Are you done already? _Sam?_

Carefully he crept back to the main area, gun (that his brother would have had a _fit_ about had he realised that Dean still carried it everywhere) in hand. Slowly he rounded (while wincing at his own pun) the corner…

“Hey Dean!” Claire had already reached the base of the stairs and was coming to greet him with a large embrace. “Sorry it took me so long to get here. I was a bit… busy with a vamp when Sam left the message asking if I wouldn’t mind checking in on you…”

“I… He… Of _course_ he did!” Dean couldn’t help but tear up yet again, but this time from the knowledge that he would always be his brother’s first thought no matter what.

“Hey!” And the blonde’s arms were tight around him. “Aw, Sam _said_ you were struggling a little now the end’s nearly in sight. But you’re looking good….”

“I’m so fat!” the man wailed.

“You’re beautiful.” She whispered into his ear. “This is all so new: you’ve got no one to ask for advice as you’re the very, very _first_ but you’ve done so well. It’s going to be okay…

You and that little girl are going to be just _perfect_.”

That did it. Claire made sure to keep her arm tight around Dean as he snottily snuffled his way back to the kitchen and helped him to carefully sit down before setting the water to boil for some ginger tea.

“Feeling better?” She asked as they both sipped a soothing mug full of the steaming drink.

“Sorry for being such a wuss.”

“You’re forgiven… daddy!” And she grinned at him. “Now. What the _hell_ were you doing with those brushes? Sam is going to _kill_ me!”

The next day or so seemed to fly by: if Dean wasn’t laughing with the beautiful young blonde then they were having deep conversations about life, babies, cooking and all the different colours of paint that they were using.

Sam was relieved to hear how happy his brother was sounding every time he called, but the Sarangay had proved far more formidable and taken longer than he had hoped it would to take down, and he had to admit… every single bit of him fucking _ached_. Perhaps he should admit that he was getting older and retire with his brother…

Although, even _Castiel_ said he now hurt all over.

But at least Dean was okay. Sam determined to himself that he was going to buy Claire something really nice for taking care of his brother when he got back… like a new revolver or a machete…

“So if it’s okay, I’ll be home tomorrow. I could start driving now but… I’ll be honest, Dean, I’m absolutely shattered. I just want to get my head down for a few hours then I’ll head straight back, I promise…”

“That’s fine… _I’m_ fine. Do what you gotta to be safe, Sammy. I’ll see you when you get here…”

“If you need me sooner, just call. Anything at all. I’ll _be_ there, Dean.”

“As long as you’re all safe…. Erm…. What did you tell Charlie about me, Sammy?”

Sam bit his lip: “I told her the truth, Dean. And believe me, she wanted to forget all about the Sarangay and just come and see you. I won’t be surprised if she tries to follow me back to the Bunker tomorrow…”

“She really okay…?”

Sam smiled down the phone at the uncertainty in his brother’s voice: “You kidding? She’s gone out and bought a baby-Batman romper suit! _Shit_ : I wasn’t supposed to _tell_ you that! Act surprised when she gives it to you! But it is really, _really_ cute…

See you tomorrow, big brother.” Sam disconnected the call.

“Dean?” Claire had been talking anxiously on her own cell at the same time. “That was my friend. Things are moving around her apartment on their own: she’s pretty freaked out about it. How soon will Sam be back?”

“You get on.” The response was instant. “They’ll be on their way soon. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“ _I_ can manage one night on my own!” Then Dean was reconsidering his indignation. “Sorry. You’ve been great! I really… thanks for being here, Claire. I _mean_ it. But if your friend needs you, then you have to go and help her.

Sam and Cas will be back sometime tomorrow anyway…”

“Okay, baby mama: just as long as you’ll be okay. I’ll go and get my stuff. Oh, and Dean?” as the blonde started to turn away. “That lucky little girl is going to just _love_ her room!”

Dean swore as he awoke ridiculously early the next morning: that ‘lucky little girl’ was playing yet another fucking tune on his fucking bladder! Boy, he couldn’t wait for this to finally be over…

… and yet… he had to admit to himself that he was absolutely _terrified_ as to the next bit!

With a sigh, he went to make himself some herbal tea.

By eight o’clock he was wandering aimlessly around the corridors of the Bunker. He just couldn’t settle for some reason: it was an effort to sit down and even more of an effort to get up again, and trying to go back to bed meant lying down which just put the baby on his blimp of a belly and made him want to urinate yet _again_ …

… so he was just roaming… waddling… around the long halls on his own at stupid o’clock in the morning. It already felt like he had walked miles…

Everything was ready.

All that he was waiting for now was… Dean gulped… for him to actually have the _baby!_

He was just heading back to the nearest bathroom yet _again_ when he became aware of another new ache in his body… in his back to be precise. An ache which turned into a pain that rapidly transmogrified into absolute fucking _agony_.

It felt that someone had not only stuck a knife into him but was twisting it in the wound. The memory of Mr Manolli and that fucking kitchen knife shot to the forefront of Dean’s brain even as he was grasping at the nearest wall for support…

… And then, just as suddenly the pain was gone.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean caught his breath.

And then he shrugged. Just another joy of being pregnant: really, the thrills just kept _coming_ …

He had just walked… waddled… to the bathroom when the pain suddenly hit in the same place again.

And then stopped.

It took Dean the third time of suddenly having to grip hold of the basin tightly and brace himself against the rising pain to realise…

Shit! He had gone into _labour_.

And he was completely on his own in the Bunker for at least the next few hours.

Sam. He had to call Sammy!

Dean waited for the contraction to pass, tried to steady his rising pani… _breathing,_ steady his breathing… and felt in his pocket for his cell phone.

Only to realise that it wasn’t there.

Where had he…? Fuck, he had left it on his bedside table. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!

He had to get back to his room to get it.

But even as he turned to try, the next contraction struck. Shit: weren’t they meant to start off slow and gradually increase? These fuckers were hitting just about one after the other! Dean held on to the basin and fought to catch his breath.

He had to get hold of Benjamin!

Even as the pain eased he felt the next one already starting. And every time… the pain grew more and more…

It grew so bad that Dean all but felt his knees buckle beneath him. His vision blurred and all he could do was try and gasp his way through until he could finally focus again, only to find himself completely on the floor and as curled into as much of a ball as a pregnant man could get!

And the pressure was already building in his abdomen again…

Tears of frustration as well as pain filled Dean’s eyes: he had known that he probably _wasn’t_ fully prepared for the actual birth, not that there was any other man in this dimension who had ever been through it that he could actually _ask_ , but this was _way_ beyond anything he could have imagined. He knew he had to get back to his bedroom but all he could think about was the next contraction to come…

With one determined effort, he blindly reached up to the basin again, desperate to try and get back to his feet… or at least to his hands and knees…

It was with genuine relief that he felt warm fur tickle between his outstretched fingers and heard the deep purr of the nahurac: “Hey, baby. _God_ , am I glad to see you! And as beautiful as ever! Oh shit, here comes another!”

The spirit animal stood firm and uncomplaining as Dean’s hands tightened into twisted fur-filled fists with the pain…. well, apart from a slight snarl and a flash of the glinting green eyes… “Sorry, baby. Oh fuck, that hurts so _much!_ Can you get Sammy for me?”

The big animal stared at him with the distasteful expression that most cats seem to reserve especially for humans…

“Well, can you at least help me to my room so I can get my cell?” Dean shook his head at himself: “I’m talking to a fucking inter-dimensional , probably not even _real_ , cat! Worse: I’m actually expecting it to _answer!_ I’ve totally lost it! Oh shit…”

He doubled up again as the next contraction hit. And this time… “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my _god!_ I think my water’s have broken! I need Sammy! I need Benjamin!”

Dean paused despite the pain.

“I need _Samuel_. Please…

 _Please_ can you get me Samuel?”

The nahurac blinked at him disdainfully.

“Oh _come_ on! I get more emotion from my _other_ Baby! And she purrs better than you as well!”

The green eyes sparkled momentarily pale blue but Dean didn’t notice: he was busy trying to think (and catch his breath) before the next lot of pain hit. “Okay. First of all, I need to get to my room to get my cell. But I also need to get to Sammy’s room to get those new soft towels that he bought ready…”

He struggled to try and get to his feet, gasping a little even as he used the nahurac as a support. Then...

“Ew… Fuck it: first of all I need some clean _pants!_ These are clinging to me! What _is_ this stuff? It feels like it’s still pouring out of me!”

“It’s omega slick.”

Dean started and struggled to try and turn at the sound of someone else in the supposedly empty Bunker… then all but burst into tears at the sight of the elderly Benjamin standing behind him... and unbelievably still wearing his fluffy moccasin slippers.“Oh man, am I glad to see _you!_ But how…?”

“Our Lady sent your nahurac to me last night.” The grey-haired man smiled. “I knew it meant you must be getting close: I just grabbed my bag and drove. I even forgot my boots!”

He paused as Dean doubled over once more in pain, and moved to rub the pregnant man’s back until the contraction had passed. “I was going to suggest we got you to your room, but you’re making such a puddle of slick that I don’t think you’re going to make it…”

“I’m what? Oh shit!” And he was bracing himself against the basin again.

Benjamin busied himself with his bag: “You’re slicking! I wondered… I know we have no experience with what you _are_ , but you also told me that omegas were created for _breeding!_ You were saying that, without suppressants, they naturally have extremely large families. So it makes sense that… just as you said you had naturally produced this substance that… well…. makes things easier during the _act_ of sex, that it also helps with the act of _birthing_ …”

“You’re saying…” Dean gasped as he managed to catch his breath momentarily: “… you’re saying that this… icky stuff… is _me?!”_

“Natural lubricant, yes.” Benjamin was pulling some things out from his bag as he explained. “Literally works both ways! I doubt we’re going to need _these_ ,” as he took out some forceps, “but I’ll get the cord clamp ready. _And_ my stethoscope and thermometer… we’ll need to get your lower half undressed… “

“We’ll _what?_ ” Dean had now been forced back down on his knees on the floor, but at least the old man’s words had just taken his mind _completely_ off the pain: “Oh no, it’s _fine_. I can manage…”

Benjamin laughed despite himself: “All the stories I’ve heard over the years about this big bad Hunter and he turns out to be a right weakling.”

“What?”

The other man grinned down at him: “You’re not the first Hunter I’ve ever met. And he was so _very, very_ proud of you… you _idgit._ ”

Dean snuffled.

“Now get those pants off and get yourself sorted out while I go and find some clean towels. I’ll put those ones on the rack there under you for the moment…”

“Sammy’s room. Down the hall: third on the right.”

Benjamin nodded. “Back in a mo.”

There was a momentary pause after the older man left the room: the minutest respite from pain, discomfort and… that slimy-feeling if sweet-smelling stuff that had now soaked completely through Dean’s sweatpants and undershorts…

But he could already feel the pressure in his abdomen building again…

Quickly he shoved the offending item of clothes down… or would have had they not been sticking to him… but Dean did at least manage to pull them both out of the way enough before the next lot of pain hit. Once more it took his breath away and it was all he could do to stay on his hands and knees without collapsing completely: “Oh shit, shit, shit!”

The beautiful big cat was there again suddenly, butting against his head and right shoulder with its own, just like its smaller domesticated relatives do to legs when they want attention. Without even thinking the man reached out, wanting to feel the support that was being offered beneath its layer of warm fur…

As the contraction eased only a little before immediately reforming into the worst one _yet_ , Dean felt like crying; felt like screaming; felt that he was so alone and yet definitely did not want _anyone_ coming back into that room to see him like this, so needy and exposed and _desperate_ all at the same time…

The only way to stop himself from yelling and begging and howling was to throw his arms fully around the nahurac and just bury his head into the softness of its coat: his fists tightening with the effort of _not_ giving into the natural urge to weep uncontrollably at the agony and the stretching in his insides and the sheer uncomfortableness of the feeling and the just fucking _humiliation_ of being on the bathroom floor like _this_ , feeling so emotional and vulnerable…

He was not going to cry. _Women_ did this every day. He could do this… once.

 _Definitely_ he was only ever going to do this the once.

The cat pressed its head against his… and purred: the sensation going all through Dean’s body. And suddenly he felt the urge to… use the toilet. But he couldn’t move.

He was in pain, and he felt that he had lost the use of every single one of his limbs and he now needed to go to the fucking _toilet_ …?

And he couldn’t stop himself from pushing down _there_ …

“Hell! Even quicker than I expected!” And Benjamin was back in the room with him and also kneeling down behind where Dean was trapped in his own private hell of mental paralysis on the floor and reaching for… “The head’s already out! Just one more push’ll do it, boy. Don’t worry: I’ve got her!”

“What…?” But his body was already responding to the instruction, and suddenly, with an icky squicky squishing noise, he felt the pain in his abdomen release, followed almost immediately by the sound of…

… the desperate wail of a newly-born infant.

“How…?” Dean felt exhausted: he felt that he had run a marathon. He felt that he had gone twelve rounds with a _minotaur_. But none of that mattered. “I… she… is she…?”

“She’s absolutely beautiful.” Benjamin smiled. He was already cleaning the baby girl up ready to wrap in one of the brand new soft clean baby blankets that he had found with the towels. “Try and turn yourself around, and I’ll hand her to you. You did good, Dean. She’s absolutely _beautiful!_ ”

Still three hours or so drive away, Sam and Castiel were speeding in the Impala on their way back to the Bunker.

“Try not to fret, Sam.” The angel was saying: “I am sure he will call should he need us.”

“That’s not the point,” the young man was berating himself. “I should have just come back last night. When I woke this morning and saw Claire’s text about her having to leave to help her friend…

I should have come home last night even if I slept all day today… What if he’s not alright? What if something’s happened while he’s on his own…?

What if that _bitch_ has taken him again while no one was there with him…? I…!”

His words broke off abruptly as suddenly his whole vision was filled with a flash of bright light blue. Sam braked instinctively and the Impala screeched to a burning-rubber-stink halt in the middle of the road…

No.

 _Not_ in the middle of the road.

As Sam and the angel’s somewhat now black-spotted vision cleared, they could both see that…

They weren’t in Missouri anymore.

They were actually just sitting in the stationery Impala… which somehow was now right outside the Bunker!

“Is that what it feels like when I fly you somewhere?” Castiel asked with interest. “Dean always tells me that his stomach gets very unsettled when I do, and mine definitely is _now_ …”

Sam’s was as well. But that didn’t matter as his brain finally caught up with his body… “Oh my god… Dean! _Dean!”_

And he was out of the car and running into the Bunker, almost slipping down the metal stairs in his panic: “Dean! Dean! Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Here,” came a voice that Sam momentarily couldn’t place… but then as he followed it into one of the bathrooms and recognised the elderly native Pawnee, and saw his brother sitting on the floor leaning against the bathtub, looking pale and exhausted but happy, wearing sloppy stained sweatpants and a large old towel over his lap, surrounded by… Sam was quite happy not to think about what that slippery stuff was all over the floor although it smelt really, really sweet… and holding a soft new baby-blanket-wrapped bundle of something that was wriggling and kicking and… staring up at his brother with _huge_ beautiful green eyes… her tiny nostrils already twitching as she drank in the scent of her daddy…

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my _god!_ ” Sam was across the room and on his knees beside his brother in the next instant. “You had her! Are you okay? I… Oh my god: she’s _beautiful!_

I should have been here…”

“S’okay, Sammy.” Dean chuckled, winced and cried a little all at the same time. “I’m _glad_ you didn’t have to see me like… well… I’m just glad, is all.

She had it covered anyway.”

“ _She?_ ” Sam was instantly on edge. And furious with himself: he should have been here with his brother when Dean needed him… he had let the older man down yet _again_ …

“She.” And Dean patted something that was resting calmly against his leg: something that Sam couldn’t see but, the way that his brother’s hand stalled nearly 12 inches above his thigh and his spread fingers seemed to sink into something soft or covered with thick fur…

… and whatever it was… it _purred_ at his brother’s touch…

“The nahurac.” Castiel had followed him in and now leant over Sam’s shoulder to inform him in a loud aside before acclaiming with genuine excitement: “Your child is… incredible, Dean. She has your eyes… and your lips… and your angels’ kisses…”

“They’re called freckles, Cas.”

“And _this_ angel will be her guardian for the rest of his life: I _promise_ you…”

“Thanks, man.” And Dean tried not to cry again, as the three of them simply sat on the bathroom floor together and stared at the beautiful brand new little girl…

“Have you got a name yet, Dean?” Benjamin had finished cleaning and packing his equipment away.

Dean chewed at his lip: “Well,” he finally said. “As she’s… we’re… the first of … well, what we are… I thought about Eve… but obviously, that’s got bad connotations… given… well… what happened…

But then I thought… Evie. And Marie for mom… I mean, the _other_ Dean already took _Mary_ …

What’cha think?”

“Evie-Marie?” Sam was thrilled to have been included in the decision: “I _love_ it! Evie-Marie Winchester. And I’m sure mom would have been proud…”

Dean blinked: “Well, actually I was thinking of Marie as her middle name but… yeah… yeah, I like the hyphen…”

“Hey, Evie-Marie,” Sam had never felt himself to be so _large_ as when he tried to delicately touch the tiny newborn’s cheek with his oversize fingers… “Can I hold her…?”

“Sure…”

Benjamin helped the brothers: both being equally as terrified of dropping Evie-Marie as the other. But eventually Sam was sitting with her in his arms… or rather hands… and he was staring down at the baby he was cradling with so much emotion and awe in his face that Dean felt his heart overflow with love for them both…

And oh _god_ , he was so tired and he felt so… _yucky_. He so desperately wanted a shower or even better, a long soothing bath.

And more importantly: Sammy had promised he would cook him some _bacon!_

The next couple of days went by in a rush: Sam had never seen so many people in the Bunker. It seemed like Benjamin’s entire tribe had come down to greet Evie-Marie and it seemed that the entire building was filled up with their gifts as well as their laughter and excitement, not to mention Jody who had turned up at an unearthly hour the very next morning after the baby was born, desperate to meet her and congratulate Dean…

Even so, all three men… well: _one_ man, one recently pregnant newly turned were-being and one angel… breathed a sigh of relief when they had all finally left again and they had the Bunker to themselves again… plus the baby of course.

And now she… and her daddy… were both sound asleep in Dean’s bedroom. Sam had to admit that Evie-Marie had a powerful pair of lungs, although she always instantly calmed down when his brother picked her up: her little nostrils working away and her big green eyes tracking her daddy wherever he went in the room even though she was still only a few days old…

He was standing in _her_ room: the one that Dean had originally wanted his little girl to have when she got old enough to sleep on her own. Sam had heard Castiel and Benjamin moving things around before the elderly man had returned home and had found them carefully arranging Evie-Marie’s nursery furniture in there.

Sam had never worked out why his brother had just wanted it to all be in a simple plain wooden style: he himself would have gone for a pastel-pink, or covered in unicorns and rainbows, but no… Dean had just wanted a simple oak wardrobe, dresser and cot… and a rocking chair big enough for an adult man to be able to safely sit in with his growing daughter…

 _Now_ the young man understood.

Because it had turned out that Dean had been painting the room _himself_ during the nights with the assistance of Castiel, (which also explained his marked increased exhaustion during the days), and Sam was now just standing in the centre of the room and marvelling…

… at the forest that had been painted all around the walls.

The ‘boring’ browns and greens had been merged together perfectly to become beautifully painted and realistic trees and leaves, some covered with spring blossom: some with soft fresh buds about to burst, all with grasses and flowering plants of all different colours in between them… and his brother, whom Sam had never _realised_ had so much talent, had painted red squirrels and chipmunks chasing each other around the branches, and there were brightly coloured small birds flying about from tree to tree, and rabbits and voles and beavers and even a cuddly-looking skunk hurrying between the trunks… and a beautiful stag silhouetted in a perfectly placed patch of ‘light’ that seemed to filter down through into a glade beyond…

And when Sam looked closer, he suddenly realised that there were little people in the mural. There were tiny elf-like beings down beside a beautifully painted copse of trees: the trunks of each of which, as Sam looked closer, had little front doors in. There were rings of vivid scarlet and white spotted toadstools being danced around by parties of glowing little winged men and women.

There were definite fairies wearing flowers for clothes flying amongst and around the blossoms, and a bunch of taller and stouter beings in the background who might have been gnomes or… Sam didn’t know what they were but the whole room was just _incredible_.

A noise from behind him made Sam turn. Dean stood there, with Evie-Marie in his arms: even with being so young she was already seeming to study each and every inch of the wall and take it all in…

Sam couldn’t resist going to take her from his still tired looking brother: “Dean, I never realised how much imagination you have! Especially the fairies! I don’t even understand what made you think of them, but they look so realistic. If I didn’t know better… and if I didn’t know that they don’t actually _exist_ … I’d say it’s almost as if you could see them!”

Dean opened his mouth… thought about what he had been about to say… and shut it again.

“Have you tried feeding her again yet?”

It was a serious question and had become a slight issue between them… although the young man couldn’t help from grinning as his brother’s face automatically flushed bright red.

Sam had secretly been incredulous as to how well Dean had been dealing with his change and being pregnant… but the moment his nipples had started to leak milk after the arrival of his baby had been the final quirk that nearly completely broke the older man…

The _only_ thing that had stopped him from having a full meltdown had been that his breast size hadn’t grown in the same way that a human woman’s would have. In fact Dean had lost just about all of his remaining pregnancy weight in only a couple of days and seemingly more besides…

He looked _good_.

In fact, he looked _amazing_.

He _certainly_ didn’t look like he had just had a baby…

… with the exception of having leaky nipples every time his daughter cried.

“She’s fine on formula,” Dean mumbled eventually.

“It would be better for her if you tried. Experts say that the natural benefits are tremendous: you’ll pass on antibodies and reduce her risk of having allergies…” Sam had read _all_ the books… _twice_.

His brother sighed: “Son of a bi…”

“Dean! Language!”

Evie-Marie broke the rising tension in the room by beginning to fuss in her uncle’s arms… almost as if she knew that he got as anxious about holding her when she was crying, as her daddy did when he was trying to feed her…

… probably even _more_ so…

Dean sighed at his now two-patches-of-damp shirt, but then couldn’t resist from smirking at the younger man… who was now looking more and more panicked with every passing second as Evie-Marie’s cries turned to full on desperate wails that seemingly meant: ‘I’m starving to _death_ here!’

He grinned as he took her back: “C’mon here baby! What’s all this ruckus about?”

Sam sighed as the baby’s tears ceased almost immediately once back in his brother’s arms: even at only a few days old, Evie-Marie was obviously already a complete _daddy’s_ girl.

But… he supposed… Dean was _also_ completely smitten, and definitely already wrapped around the little girl’s finger. _If_ the amazing scent that had filled the Bunker ever since she had been born was anything to go by…

It had taken Sam a couple of days to realise that the aroma was emanating from his brother and it meant… he was _sure_ it meant… that Dean, at the moment at least, was an incredibly happy omega.

Which made Sam an incredibly happy and content man.

Even if he couldn’t be anything more than a brother to Dean and a uncle to Evie-Marie, at least he could enjoy being the baby’s close family for as long as this Goddess bitch allowed him to.

And… what the hell, he might as well admit it… _he_ was already totally wrapped around the little girl’s finger as well!


End file.
